I LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, i 

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f. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, f ' 

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SEEMONS. 







BY E. M. MARVIN, D.D., LL.D., 

One of the Bishops of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. 



EDITED BY T. 0. SUMMERS, D.D. 



OF CQ,y G _ 

or™**, 
CV ±876/ A 




NASHVILLE, TENN.: 
Publishing House of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South. 

1876. 



.^374^ 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876, by 

E. M. MARVIN, 
in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



TO MY WIFE, 
Mrs. HARRIET BROTHERTON MARVIN, 

To whose cheerful self-denial and devotion to my work; to 
whose rigid economy in administering domestic expendi- 
tures; to whose ready adjustment of her wants to the exi- 
gences of a meager support, in our earlier life; to whose 
careful and godly training of our children, in my protracted 
absences from home; and to the example of whose faith, and 
purity of heart I am more deeply indebted, as a Methodist 
preacher, than any one except our Maker can know — this 

volume is 

AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED. 



ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. 



HAVE received so much courtesy at the Publishing 
House that I cannot forbear to speak of it. 

Dr. Redford, ever vigilant in guarding the interests of 
the House, has extended to me a degree of personal kind- 
ness, in connection with the publication of the "Sermons," 
for which I shall ever be grateful. 

To Dr. Summers I owe much more than an official revision 
of the proof; for he has not only done his work with the 
most exemplary patience and painstaking, but has made 
valuable suggestions in some instances, of which I have, in 
almost every case, availed myself. His personal considera- 
tion and sympathy with my work have endeared him greatly 
to me. 

Nor should I do myself justice if I were to omit special 
mention of the personal courtesy of Mr. R. T. SriLLERs, the 
Superintendent of the Printing Department of the House. 
He has not only been vigilant and attentive, but personally 
obliging and considerate beyond the mere politeness of or- 
dinary business. 

These gentlemen have my blessing. May the peace of 
God be upon them! 



PEEFACE. 

T I THESE Sermons, all except four of them, have been 
-*- preached, and the' matter constituting the four has 
been preached, though not in the form in which it is cast 
here. 

When I say they have been delivered from the pulpit, I 
do not mean that they were delivered verbatim, as they are 
given here; for they were properly extemporaneous, only 
the analysis having been made beforehand, and that with- 
out the use of the pen; for I have never made even the 
briefest notes for twenty-five years past, except in a very 
few instances, when accuracy of reference and quotation was 
necessary. 

But while it is strictly true that these Sermons have been 
preached, they do not reappear in the book with verbal 
precision. Some of them have been used frequently in the 
course of several years, but never repeated word for word; 
yet I suppose those who have heard them will see that the 
substance of them is preserved, and, to a considerable ex- 
tent, the phraseology as well. 

It is needless for me to profess a good motive in prepar- 
ing these discourses for the press, for every Christian man 
is supposed to act upon good motives; yet, truth to tell, I 



6 Preface. 

have never been quite as well satisfied with my own mo- 
tives as I would like to be; for while I trust that the "love 
of Christ constraineth me," still, upon any deep introspec- 
tion, I have occasion to suspect the presence of a subtle 
selfishness and vanity, from which I find no resort but in 
Atoning Mercy. I can only pray God that if there be the 
taint of any such thing in the publication of this volume, 
the all-saving Blood may put it away, and that the Holy 
Spirit may make my poor work the instrument of salvation 
to some who are in sin, and of edification to those who are 
already in Christ. 

The time is short; I have done but little work for the 
Master, and what I have done has been but poorly done; 
and now that the day is far spent and the night at hand, 
I feel that I cannot afford to be idle. So 1 have put in 
the odd hours in preparing this book. Son of God, I com- 
mit it to thee! 

E. M. MARVIN. 

St. Louis, July 8, 1876. 



CONTENTS. 

Page 
God in the Old Testament Scriptures 9 

God in the New Testament Scriptures 50 

God in the Church , 78 

What is Man? 129 

The Law of Spiritual Thrift 169 

The Law and the Gospei 193 

The Corn of Wheat 218 

The Lord's Supper 253 

A Dedication Discourse 285 

Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches 317 

Christ and the Church 357 

In Memoriam 400 

Going on to Perfection 427 

Natural Death 456 

The Lord's Messenger 481 

The Lord's-day in the Family 509 

The Bright and Morning Star 526 

The Fountain of the Water of Life 545 



Sermons. 



tfiod in the ©Id Testament $qtytans. 



SERMON I. 

"For thus said the Lord that created the heavens; God 
himself that formed the earth and made it; he hath estab- 
lished it, he created it not in A-ain, he formed it to be inhabited : 
I am the Lord, and there is none else. I have not spoken in 
secret, in a dark place of the earth: I said not unto the seed 
of Jacob, Seek ye me in vain : I the Lord speak righteousness, 
I declare things that are right." Jsa. xlv. 18, 19. 

THE God ward consciousness in man is universal. 
Nothing is more prominent in all early history. 
As far back in the past as we know any thing of 
man, he was a worshiper. Even if the book of 
Genesis were not in existence, this would still be 
true. From prehistoric times there comes to us a 
mythical literature, the very spirit and essence of 
which is a sense of the divine — very crude and gross, 
unquestionably, but very distinct and commanding. 
Theism, in some form, has dominated the human 



10 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

mind from the times when the mind gave the first 
intimations of itself which have reached ns. In 
that period which constitutes the dawn of history, 
in which all ohjects are shadowy and indistinct, man 
is discovered in communication with the Unseen. 
Earth and heaven are full of invisible powers; some 
were beneficent, others malignant. The earliest 
poetry is a species of drama, in which gods and 
goddesses are the chief actors. 

Through all modification of thought, all stages of 
civilization, all changes and revolutions of society, 
the theistic consciousness remains. It is notified to 
us from all places of the earth; it is found in the 
hut of the savage and in the halls of the university. 
The half- naked hunter invokes the presence of 
some god to prosper him in the precarious fortunes 
of the chase, or, by rude incantations from dusk to 
dawn, strives to exorcise the demon of sickness 
from his dying child. The philosopher, contem- 
plating the tremendous forces of nature, worships 
the unseen Essence which delivers them. The Dig- 
ger Indian, burrowed in the side of a hill, awes and 
hushes his children from the echo of some uncom- 
mon sound in the depths of the forest and the 
darkness. His Caucasian neighbor, collecting bis 
household around the hearth-stone, opens his Bible, 
and reads, "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not 
want." 

This Godward consciousness is in every man. The 
blankest idiocy scarcely escapes it. The absence of 
it were an unheard-of idiosyncrasy. There is no 
such thing as atheism in the world. A man abso- 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 11 

lutely without God is not to be found; he does not 
exist. Many, indeed, are, in any Christian sense, 
"without God and without hope in the world" — 
that is, they have no true moral or spiritual relation 
to him, no inheritance of his love; but to be in 
absolute atheism, without God — that is, without any 
thought of God in the mind, any Godward movement 
of consciousness — is a phenomenon nowhere to be 
found. Those whom we call atheists — men who 
deny the existence of God — must have the thought, 
before they can deny the fact, of the being of God. 
The presence of this fact in consciousness is essen- 
tial as a condition of the denial itself of the fact. 
The atheist himself, then, constitutes no exception 
to the proposition at first made: The Godward con- 
sciousness in man is universal. 

How the fact of the divine existence comes within 
the field of consciousness I need not inquire. Such 
an inquiry falls within the domain of philosophy 
rather than of theology. To say that it is not in 
consciousness until it is brought there by some affir- 
mation from without does not affect the significance 
of the fact that it is there. There is nothing in 
consciousness until contact with some objective fact 
evolves it — at least, nothing beyond the most indefi- 
nite sense of being; and it may well be doubted if 
there could be even that. "We come to know even 
the self by contact with that which is without. 
Much more, that which is without must deliver it- 
self, in some way, upon the soul before there can be 
any corresponding consciousness. To us the divine 
existence is without, and there must be some notifi- 



12 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

cation to us of the fact before we can become con- 
scious of it. Whether this notification be contained 
in the terms of a verbal announcement, or in the 
intimations of a divine work, it is not necessary 
here to inquire. 

The paramount inquiry is whether the thought 
itself may not be false. May it not be all just in 
the imagination? May it not be that there is no 
fact corresponding to this idea? 

There are many false conceptions in the mind. 
There is no denying this proposition. How are we, 
then, to distinguish the true from the false? Must 
there be harassing and painful want of certitude in 
the mind with respect to all its conceptions? 

No. There are facts and truths of which we are 
never in doubt; and, in fact, all error starts from 
some truth. Every falsehood is but a false putting 
of truth. Of the existence of matter, and of its 
essential phenomena, there is no doubt. Here is 
certainty. But in complex combinations, and where 
inference begins, things often get tangled and come 
into false attitudes in our thought. Still the phe- 
nomena — extension, figure, solidity, color, and these 
inhering in, or supervening upon, a substance — are 
facts, true facts, underlying all the grotesque dis- 
placements of them in our thought. So feeling, 
thought, volition, inhering in the substance which 
we name spirit, are subject to much false grouping, 
while yet they remain evermore unquestioned and 
unquestionable. 

That which is the basis of all thought, then, is true. 
The mind reposes in its conceptions of these pri- 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 13 

mary facts. Nothing can shake the serenity of its 
convictions with respect to them. It laughs all 
skepticism to scoru. 

£To more essential, in the primary conditions of 
thought, are the ideas of solidity, figure, extension, 
color, as phenomena of matter, or knowledge, feel- 
ing, volition, as phenomena of mind, than is the 
idea of the divine existence. Matter, spirit, God — 
these three words are fundamental in thought. 
There may he, there is, much false thinking with 
respect to them; but the mere idea of them, as fact, 
as existent back of all modifications of the idea in 
our thought, is a conviction which it takes a" world 
of learned nonsense to disturb. 

There is something objective to man answering 
to all that is subjective in him. The faculty of 
vision has its field of objective realities; so of the 
faculty of hearing. Below the faculties which are 
posited in organs of sensation there is the general 
faculty of knowledge, there are the affections, tastes, 
sentiments. All these — every thing, in fact, that 
can possibly be named in man — answer to, or are an- 
swered to by, something without. JSTow, the grand- 
est, richest faculty in the range of consciousness is 
that by which we think of God. While all else 
within is the counterpart of an object without, does 
this appear without any answering fact? While 
every other voice within that calls upon a fact with- 
out gets ready echoes, does this one waste itself in 
empty space? Is the fact in which consciousness 
culminates the only one that is a lie and a cheat? 

Men believe in God because the thought of him 



14 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

is in their minds. This fact is sufficient ground of 
the belief, if there were no other. The universal 
Godward consciousness is one side of the great fact 
of which God himself is the other. It is the sense 
of our relation to the ultimate Being. 

This consciousness is the basis of all religion. It 
is the condition of all religious thought and feeling. 
Some flippant men in our day, as in former times, 
assuming a philosophical tone, pretend a conflict 
between religion and philosophy. The very state- 
ment is absurd. That which makes a quarrel with 
the phenomena of consciousness is "philosophy, 
falsely so called." 

That were a convenient philosophy, indeed, which 
should select its own facts, or which should make a 
theory exclusive of any fact, and then discredit the 
fact by the theory. This is just what is done by all 
those systems which disparage religion. A just- 
method embraces all facts. The only legitimate 
function of philosophy is to give an intelligent 
statement of all facts, and, as far as may be, explain 
and account for them. The method which fails to 
account for any one of the great facts of conscious- 
ness, that is not comprehensive of them all, is, from 
the very failure, a false method. Nor must it ex- 
plain the fact in a manner to discredit it. The fact 
must be honored, its integrity maintained. Facts 
are not to be lowered and misplaced, but handled 
reverently and with full credit of their significance. 
The philosophy that does not make room for re- 
ligion, which is the supreme fact, is no philosophy, 
but a sham — a mere "trick of philosophizing." 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 15 

This greatest fact of human consciousness and of 
human history is not to be dishonored by meta- 
physical tricksters. From the misty atmosphere of 
a vain conceit clouds and fogs may arise, and ob- 
scure this Mount Shasta of the facts of life for an 
hour, but evermore will it reappear, supreme amid 
surrounding grandeurs, wrapped in the white mantle 
of Purity, and glowing in the everlasting sunshine 
of Truth. 

The Goclward consciousness, then, must ever 
abide a witness of God's existence, and of our rela- 
tion to him. And in this fact are given all the 
gravest issues of our own being. "What we have 
to do with the Infinite must involve all that is of 
highest import to ourselves. It is at the highest 
point of consciousness that we touch on him. ~No 
other subject of thought can be of equal moment 
with this. 

But, as I have already intimated, there may be, 
and as a fact there is, much that is false in human 
thought with respect to the combinations, the rela- 
tions, and indeed the very character, of those things 
the existence of which is in the data of conscious- 
ness, and as to the fact of which there is never, nor 
can be, any doubt in the simplicity of a candid mind. 
In physics and philosophy there is a world of false 
thinking, though the actual data be all undeniable. 

So, also, alas ! in religion, and in reference to God. 
The divine is recognized everywhere, in all ages, by 
all men. But in what false lights is the glorious 
vision often set ! Indeed, the imperfection of man's 
reason is most painfully apparent when it is em- 



16 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

ployed upon this the highest of all the classes of 
truth. It is soon dizzy upon these elevations. Not 
only from imbecility, but from depravity, it suffers 
disqualification for the attainment of truth in this 
high and pure region. "Such knowledge is too 
high for me; I cannot attain unto it." In its de- 
praved appetency, the mind tends to that which is 
low and evil. The true knowledge of God is diffi- 
cult to it in its low estate. 

Yet to hold the truth is essential. We take a 
true or false relation to any fact as we have a true 
or false notion of the fact. Our attitude toward any 
object or movement is taken from the understand- 
ing: we have of it. Men often take a stand in rela- 
tion to the forces of nature and of society that in- 
volves them in disaster, from holding a false view. 
Misconception of the nature and direction of forces, 
in many cases, involves ruin. Men take their atti- 
tude before God, and their relation to his govern- 
ment, from their understanding of the facts of his 
character and law. In many thousands of cases they 
misplace themselves, and are borne down by the in- 
finite forces in the way of which they stand. Noth- 
ing but the "truth will make them free." 

Yet it is true, from indubitable and abundant tes- 
timony of history, that it is hard for the true the- 
istic idea to maintain a footing in the human mind. 
The idea is always present, but is ever taking on 
false forms. There seems a strong and inevitable 
tendency to depraved conceptions of the diviue nat- 
ure and character. Even where the true idea has 
been lodged in thought it has not maintained itself. 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 17 

The tendency seems especially to be to lose sight 
of the unity, the spirituality, and the holiness of the 
Godhead. 

Amongst the Jews, after the fullest expression of 
the divine nature in the revelations which God made 
to them, for many ages there was perpetual degen- 
eration of thought on this subject. They were con- 
stantly taking up the abominable conceptions of 
their heathen neighbors. Their mind seemed to 
gravitate heavily to the basest forms of thought. 
They evinced the strongest affinity for idolatrous 
ideas and practices of the grossest character. This 
tendency was so prevalent and continuous that God 
had, at short intervals, to put forth new and terrible 
manifestations of himself to recover them to the re- 
cognition of his true character. Of this I shall speak 
more fully after awhile. 

Even within the Christian era the same fact reap- 
pears. The theistic idea has suffered great deterio-' 
ration among the Romanists and other sects. You 
cannot look into the Romish calendar without re- 
calling the Roman mythology. Olympus comes in 
view, with the crowned deity upon the summit, and 
all the mountain populous with smaller gods. Mary 
has enjoyed successive elevations until she ranks w^ell 
with Minerva. Prayer goes up to her at once from 
all places, as if she were invested with the divine at- 
tribute of omnipresence. From the import of pray- 
ers in common use, she is looked to and confided in, 
even more than Christ, for help and grace. A thou- 
sand saints have reached an apotheosis in which they 
are recognized in the ritual, their names are rever- 



18 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

ently uttered, and their images appear in the house 
of God. The cathedral of Christian Rome is scarcely 
to be distinguished from the temple of heathen Rome, 
unless it be from the style of art in which the pict- 
ures and images are produced. 

This depraved theism comes of no want of fullness 
or emphasis in the revelation of himself that God 
has given. It has its source in the inherent evil of 
our fallen state. It has a common root with all 
other sin. "The imaginations of the thoughts of 
the heart are only evil, continually." The cause 
that produces the violation of the law of God in 
act issues also in the violation of the truth of God 
in thought. There is no want of distinctness, nor 
of authority, in the revelation of the law; yet the 
law is perpetually violated. There is no want of 
distinctness, nor of emphasis, in the revelation of 
the truth; yet the truth, also, is perpetually violated.. 

Now, the Bible — the whole Bible — is a revelation 
of God and of his will to man in his fallen state. It 
is, therefore, accommodated, so far as that is possi- 
ble, to the debased condition of his faculties and af- 
fections. It is designed to take hold of him in his 
grossness and lift him out of it: to reach him where 
he is, in the mud and filth of a sinful condition, with 
divine attractions that shall raise him and restore 
him to his lost estate. It is a divine manifestation, 
adapted, as far as possible, to his blurred vision. It 
is an utterance of God suited to the ear for which it 
is intended. It is a method of divine disclosures ac- 
commodated to man's in appetency for divine things. 

This adaptation contemplates the individual man, 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 19 

as far as that may be. To this end, it contemplates 
the race in the scope of its history. Early revela- 
tions anticipated and prepared the way for other 
and higher disclosures, for which the world required 
to be educated beforehand. Successive revelations, 
as the conditions of thought would justify, went 
forward toward their culmination in Christ. The 
whole preceding history of revelations was required 
to prepare the vision of man for the sunburst of 
Deity which flamed out in his advent. Nor was 
the preparation, even then, perfect. The failure was 
not in any want of perfection in the preparatory 
agencies, but in the inaptitude of the human mind 
itself, the subject of their operation. The teaching 
was perfect, but there was unutterable stupidity in 
the pupil. 

Yet the failure was not complete. Amid the de- 
pravities, and downward tendencies, and stupidities 
of thought, perverse and vicious as it was, there 
was progress. Mind was in a state almost infinitely 
better prepared for the manifestation of God in 
Christ when he did come than it had been in the 
first a°:es. 

The Old Testament Scriptures, then, are to be re- 
garded as containing a system of preparatory reve- 
lations, a progressive series of disclosures, looking to 
Christ, and to reach their acme in him. 

To think truly of God, so far as the capacity of 
thought may allow, is an essential condition of true 
religion. Our conception of God is the very start- 
ing-point of the religious life. If this fountain be 
corrupt, the taint will appear in the whole life; if 



20 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

this be pure, there is an auspicious incipiency of all 
that is highest and holiest in the possibilities of re- 
ligion. 

The capital point, therefore, in the preparatory 
revelations, was to secure a place in the mind of 
man for the true thought of God. A pure Theism 
must be deeply rooted in the world's thought. 
Without this, man's religion will be but another 
form of depravity — another expression of the evil, 
the corruption, that is in him. As the first condi- 
tion of every end contemplated in revelation, God 
must set himself clearly in man's vision. He must 
assert himself in man's thought. The Infinite must 
speak his name to us. We must hear it, and every 
syllable of the utterance must bring ineffable im- 
port. Out of the holy places we must hear his 
voice. I AM THAT I AM must become radiant 
m our eyes with his own immortal, uncreated light. 
Not in the murky light of a vitiated theory, nor 
through the distorting medium of a tainted and 
sensuous imagination, but in his own pure, eternal 
splendors, must we contemplate him. Then, and 
not till then, shall we be prepared to listen to his 
word; then, and not till then, will sin be sin to 
our understandings and consciences; then, and not 
till then, will his law convey to us its holy im- 
port; then, and not till then, will guilt and judg- 
ment overwhelm us with the grandeur of their 
awful meaning; then will the word salvation fall 
like a beneficent baptism upon our spirits, and 
Christ become, indeed, "ehiefest among ten thou- 
sand," and "altogether lovely." 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 21 

Every one who comprehends the unity of the 
Holy Scriptures understands the Old Testament as 
the precursor of the New. The dawn of the Chris- 
tian day is seen in the early chapters of the hook 
of Genesis. The "light shineth more and more 
until the perfect day" appears in the ascended 
Christ. Prophecy and ritual preintimate the Re- 
deemer. Statement and symbol announce him. 
Half revealed and half disguised in typical and 
metaphorical representation, he everywhere ap- 
pears in the Old Testament. The outline is per- 
fect. When he reappears in the New Testament, 
we recognize every divine lineament, in the fullness 
of unveiled majesty and beauty. The introductory 
ages and revelations certify him to our faith. The 
signature and the seal are upon his credentials, and 
our Messiah is accredited to us beyond the possibil- 
ity of cavil. 

But the coming of the Son of God could have 
been of no avail to us if there had been no just 
knowledge of God' himself. With a corrupt the- 
ism, faith in the Son must have been corrupt. 
With no true sense of divine claims, and corre- 
sponding obligations, the Saviour would have been 
nothing to us. The power, the majesty, the holi- 
ness of God must have been delivered upon human 
consciousness before Christ could be Christ to us. 

The meaning of the Old Testament concentrates 
and culminates in the utterance of the name of the 
Most High. One word gives an exhaustive state- 
ment of the contents of these writings. That word 
is — God. God, in his nature, his character, his 



22 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

work, his government, fills the whole sphere. 
Whatever else appears, appears only in its relation 
to him. All else is mentioned in a way to give 
emphasis to his name. Every voice in the Book 
hut swells the volume of that tide of sound which 
hears the word Jehovah to our ears. Even Christ, 
as he appears in type and prophecy, voices forth 
this name. 

What I desire to bring out may be postulated 
concisely in these propositions: 

The design of the Old Testament revelations is, 

I. To set God in the true light in thought. 

II. To ENTHRONE HIM OVER CONSCIENCE. 

III. Thus to prepare the world for the coming 
of Christ, who is himself the final and highest 
utterance of the godhead. 

Following this method, I proceed to elaborate 
the first proposition. 
I. It is the design of these Scriptures to set God 

LN THE TRUE LIGHT IN THOUGHT. 

There is one remarkable fact which might seem, 
at first, to militate against this proposition. There 
is no formal announcement of the existence of God 
in the Bible, nor any systematic statement of his 
attributes. There is no teaching upon the subject 
by a scientific method. The theistic idea was not 
communicated to the world through Moses; it 
was already in the world, with the name, and had 
been from the beginning. As I have already said, 
it was universal in human consciousness. The 
thought had not to be originated; but it did re- 
quire to be corrected. It had in many cases degen- 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures, 23 

e rated into false forms, retaining but a shadow of 
the truth. It must be redeemed from its grossness. 
What was false must be eliminated; what was 
wanting must be supplied. God must become to 
man what he is in fact. Thought was full of error, 
and must be clarified. The name must be pro- 
nounced with an emphasis so deep and so pro- 
longed as to enthrone it among men forever. This 
is what the revelations of the ante-christian period 
have done. The form of announcement was so 
varied, the circumstances so imposing, the voice of 
such awful majesty, and repeating itself through a 
period so long and so eventful, that it has in- 
wrought itself into the sentiments and mental hab- 
itudes of men too deeply to be eradicated. In the 
written form it still remains, vindicating itself to 
thought, and dominating the soul with a power 
and a majesty which command the faith and fear 
of the proudest and most unwilling. 

The method is not scientific — it is historic. The 
nature and character of God are not reduced to a 
formula, and brought thus into a single view. Such 
a method would have destroyed the form and effect 
of revelation. It would have brought the Creator 
down to the level of philosophy and natural sci- 
ence. It would have invited criticism and impaired 
reverence, ^or could the meaning of the name be 
brought out in that cold, logical way. 

He is the living God. Disclosures of him must 
not be scientific, but personal. Abstraction can 
never show him to us. He must appear in facts. 
His attributes postulated in the most complete 



24 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

analysis, would leave him indistinct, remote. To 
be to our thought what he is in fact, he must ap- 
pear immanent in his works. 

The method, then, in which God communicates 
himself is historic. He notifies us of himself, of 
his nature and character, in his works of creation 
and providence, and in his government. From the 
creation to the coming of Christ he shows himself 
to us in his w^ork, and as he touches upon events. 
The Bible opens with an account of his work in 
the creation. In the historic method of revelation 
this was inevitable. He gives a simple narration 
of the work of creation; but how grand, how god- 
like, in its unaffected tone and brevity of statement ! 
There is no display of gorgeous speech here — no 
place for it. God is doing his great work; let no 
rhetorical impertinences invite attention from him. 
The narrative reads to me just like God giving an 
account of his own work. There is no parade, no 
ostentation. There is no meagerness of fact, no 
impotency of abortive or shortcoming effect, that 
requires pretentious description to justify obtrusion 
upon your notice. The stupendous miracle of cre- 
ation, the work of God, just requires words enough 
to set it before you. Farther speech would be im- 
pertinent. 

Let us hold our breath to hear his first utterance 
to man: "In the beginning God created the heaven 
and the earth." If you had a thousand years for 
the task, and access to all the libraries in the 
world to spur invention, and were through the 
whole time in the most thought-provoking situa- 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 25 

tions, you could never originate a sentence such as 
this — so sublime, holding in itself so much matter, 
and withal so fitting, as God's first statement to 
man. I have often said, and with the utmost de- 
liberation repeat it now, that if I had never heard 
of a Bible until to-day, and should open it for the 
first time, with the most skeptical disposition, on 
reading this first sentence I should become at once 
predisposed to receive it as a communication from 
God. "In the beginning God created the heaven 
and the earth." Surely, this is God's voice an- 
nouncing his work ! Nor is the first impression 
modified in the progress of the narration. It sim- 
ply discovers the vital movement of Godhead. The 
eternal power and Godhead become apparent. They 
are brought upon the plane of human observation. 

From this point forward events given in the ut- 
most simplicity, most graphic, most life-like, arouse 
attention and excite interest only to make audience 
for God, revealing himself as he touches upon and 
handles the events. The fall, the promise, the 
wickedness of man, the anger and grief of God, 
the flood, the calling of Abraham, the covenant, 
the bondage in Egypt, the deliverance, the journey 
through the wilderness, and all that followed until 
Messiah came, are simply an historical background, 
on which the name and character of God appear. 

When there is formal statement, and solemn an- 
nouncement, of divine attributes and claims, there 
is always historic occasion of it, as when Moses 
was accredited to the Hebrews under the sanction 
of the supreme title, "I am that I am — I am hath 
2 



26 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

sent thee;" or when, after the most startling events, 
God makes such intimate manifestation to his serv- 
ant, yet not of his unclouded glory. He said, " Thou 
canst not see my face: for there shall no man see 
me, and live," and proclaimed himself "The Lord, 
the Lord God, merciful and gracious, long-suffering, 
and abundant in goodness and truth, keeping mercy 
for thousands, forgiving iniquity, and transgression, 
and sin, and that will by no means clear the guilty, 
visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children, 
and upon the children's children, unto the third and 
to the fourth generations." (Ex. iii. 1-14; xxxiii. 
8-xxxiv. 7.) The Decalogue comes to us incorpo- 
rated into a history the most striking, the most im- 
pressive, that was ever written, and was promulgated 
amid scenic displays that turned a nation pale. Even 
now, after the lapse of thousands of years, with no 
participation of personal interest in the events of the 
history, we are iilled with awe in contemplating the 
situation of the people in the desert, so lately deliv- 
ered with a high hand from Egypt, and now at the 
base of Mount Sinai, gazing in dismay upon its sum- 
mit and sides in wrapped by black, massy, moving 
volumes of cloud and smoke, which were agitated 
and parted by jets of flame; chain-lightning mean- 
while writing the name, Jehovah, on the blackness, 
and the trumpet-blast waxing louder and louder, till 
it jars the mountain, while ever, at brief intervals, 
peals of thunder rive the cliffs, and shame all com- 
mon terrors. Now and here, at this distance of time 
and place, we gaze upon the scene, and our spirits 
bow themselves down before God to receive his law. 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 27 

(Ex. xix., xx.) No one can fail to see with how 
much, greater distinctness and force the revelation 
is invested by the historic method. 

This is an incident of our very constitution. What 
is embodied and organized we see clearly, and un- 
derstand and remember; what is abstract seems 
indistinct, shadowy, unreal. We live in a world 
where every thing has body and shape, and our 
knowledges come to us through organized expres- 
sion. Though we may reach the abstract and dwell 
in an ideal region, it is always by an effort. So our 
Creator, in the Bible, has approached us on the ac- 
cessible side. He comes upon us in history. Yet 
is it a history having many superhuman aspects, 
and we feel that the history is divine. It is God 
that comes to as. It is his voice that we hear; his hand 
that we see. 

The very prophecies, most of them, stand in his- 
toric connections. To this fact they owe much of 
their vivacity and impressiveness. They are God's 
words interjected into the midst of events — famines, 
pestilences, wars, captivities, commerce, the rise and 
the downfall of nations. 

But the events of history, as they appear in the 
Scriptures, serve only as a vehicle. To note and 
narrate them is not the object of these writings. 
They are used for a great purpose. They are 
charged with a message to man. They bear a bur- 
den. They are laden with a word — one word — 
God. His attributes are hinted in them. "With a 
solemn voice they confess his power. They reflect 
his glory. They evince his character. They hold 



28 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

him in contrast with all false gods. They embody 
the true theistic idea, and take possession of the 
mind for it, attacking and expelling, to make room 
for it, every false and mean conception of the divine 
nature. They are the vehicle in which God comes and 
takes possession of human thought. 

Having thus ascertained the method by which 
God reveals himself to man, let us now see what it 
is that he has communicated — what is the true 
thought, given by himself, as distinguished from all 
false ideas and theories of the nature and being of 
God. Let it be understood that I do not presume 
to bring out, in one sermon, all that is herein given 
on this great subject. Only those facts which are 
of most vital moment to us can be definitely stated, 
and the statement even of them must be most im- 
perfect. 

1. The first fact with respect to God which I gather 
from these Scriptures is his personality. 

To an ingenuous mind it seems strange, even 
startling, that there should ever have been a doubt 
of this fact. To conceive of God as a person seems 
inevitable to one who has enjoyed Christian educa- 
tion. Yet, by a species of metaphysical legerde- 
main, some men have put aside this most vital and 
necessary fact. This negation of the personality of 
God appears in two forms: 

(1) The sheer impersonality of the Infinite. God 
is just the absolute — the unconditioned. , Thus is 
the Supreme Being reduced to a mere abstraction. 
Of course it does not comport with the purposes or 
exigences of this sermon to attempt any philosoph- 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 29 

ical refutation of this unphilosophical philosophy. 
I name it as one form of the false theism (if it be 
indeed a theism at all) against which God asserts 
himself in his revelations. It is not every man who 
uses the terms mentioned that denies the divine per- 
sonality, but some push their transcendental specu- 
lations to this result, with a world of talk about 
"resolution of forces," and other such nonsense on 
stilts. 

(2) Pantheism. This appears in two forms: First, 
in the assertion that God is every thing. Nature 
and man are only parts of God, outcroppings of 
the divine essence. It reduces all things to one. 
God is not a person, distinct from what we see, but 
is just the sum of things. Second, it appears in the 
assertion that God is in all things, as the soul of 
them. According to the first, nature and man are 
lost in Gocl; according to the second, God is lost in 
nature. 

Now, the distinct personality of God is given with 
the utmost emphasis in the Old Testament. It is 
given, 

(1) In the very fact of a revelation, which re- 
quires, as correlative, a revealer. Let a man once 
admit a revelation from God, and it is inevitable 
that from that moment God must be, to him, a per- 
son. Not only so as against the impersonal theory 
of the absolute and unconditioned, but as against 
the pantheistic theory that confounds all personal- 
ity in one. God's colloquy with me gives at once 
his personality and mine. "Speak, Lord, for thy 
servant heareth." Nothing more than the recogni- 



30 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

tion of God's voice is requisite to disenchant a self- 
bewildered mind of all the poor sophistries by which 
it loses sight at once of God and of itself. 

(2) It is given in the fact of creation. Men may 
imagine eternal activities evolving new forms with 
inexhaustible fecundity, however repugnant to rea- 
son the imagination may be, and so natter them- 
selves that they have gotten rid of God. But no 
man can accept the averment of Moses, "In the 
beffinninff God created the heaven and the earth," 
without a distinct conception and acceptance of the 
fact of the divine personality. 

Intelligence and power are not qualities of an 
abstraction. "We assign them to persons. It is 
fundamental in thought that they are attributes of 
a person. To deny this would be proof of insanity. 
We cannot think of them otherwise than as attri- 
butes of a person. Intelligence is involved in the 
making of a revelation, and both power and intelli- 
gence in creation. Revealing himself, then, as the 
Creator, God sets himself before us as a person. 

(3) It is given in the fact of the divine govern- 
ment. He is "King of kings and Lord of lords." 
The idea of personality is inherent in this, as in the 
other facts named. 

(4) In short, this idea inheres in every act ascribed 
to God. It is not necessary to dwell upon it. In 
the Bible the infinite cause is a being, a person. 
This stands out so fully that no believer in the in- 
spiration of the Holy Scriptures ever doubts it. 
Indeed, there is no God at all if he be not a person. 
To name some abstraction God is in the last degree 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 31 

absurd. The very instinct of worship contemplates 
a person, and all the attributes of personal being- 
are distinctly and constantly predicated of God in 
the sacred writings. 

2. The second fact is the divine unity. 

While there is intimation of a plural condition in 
the Godhead, it is the fact of unity that is asserted, 
over and over, with a precision of statement, a va- 
riety of asseveration, and a jealous emphasis, most 
striking and remarkable. The doctrine of the Trin- 
ity is not more than intimated in the books of the 
Old Testament. It came fully to light with the 
advent of the Son into the world. Yet while the 
Trinity appears in the New Testament, the unity is 
no less jealously guarded than in the Old. But in 
the writings of the ante-advent period, our Maker 
has taken every method of fixing this fact as a sun 
in the firmament of revelation. 

Every one is aware of the tendency in early times 
to drift from this anchorage. Polytheism became 
almost universal. Upon every possible analysis of 
the divine attributes, functions, and prerogatives, 
the unity was broken up and gods were multiplied. 
"Wisdom, power, justice — all the attributes, indeed 
— were represented, each by a separate god. The 
affairs of life, as war, peace, agriculture, commerce, 
love, and the rest, were divided out to the charge of 
appropriate deities. Each region of the domain of 
nature, as the earth, the ocean, the air, mountains, 
plains, was placed under separate jurisdiction. Each 
nation had its god or gods, charged especially with 
its fortunes. Each family was under patronage of 



82 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

some small god. The basest passions had each its 
god. In fact, heathenism, ancient and modern, is 
so populous with gods that it is impossible to make 
a complete census of them. They swarm in earth 
and sea, in air, and lire, and sky. Between the ce- 
lestial and. infernal poles — from Jupiter to Pinto — 
heaven, and earth, and Erebus, are full of them. 

The divine unity broken up in thought, the the- 
istic idea becomes degraded at once. The canyings 
on of the gods of heathenism are most disgusting. 
They are of both sexes. Their loves, and jealousies, 
and intrigues, would shame the most prurient circles 
of modern times. They quarrel and make friends 
in the most pettish way. But I cannot dwell. 

Each god, in worship, must be represented by an 
image, which shall express to the worshiper the pe- 
culiar trait of his character. As amongst the Ro- 
manists now, it is not the image to which adulation 
is given, so amongst the heathens of all ages. The 
Chinaman and the Hindoo will tell you that the 
image represents an unseen spirit. But the igno- 
rant Romanist and the ignorant heathen, alike, re- 
gard the image itself with a superstitious awe. So 
dark, so hideous, does the theism of those who drift 
loose from the great, central, conservative fact of the 
unity of God become. This truth lost, all right think- 
ing upon this subject is gone. The mind loses its 
polarity. The needle shifts this way and that, yield- 
ing to the distracting influence of scattered magnets, 
until bewilderment is complete, and confusion worse 
confounded. ~Eo conceit is too silly to be enter- 
tained, no folly too grotesque to be embraced, and 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 33 

no depravity too corrupt to be indulged and rel- 
ished. Every most ridiculous and basest thing is 
accredited with divine honors. 

This is, in fact, the logical end of polytheism. 
A little reflection will convince you that this is so. 
This debased thought is not accidental in heathen- 
ism, but the inevitable result of its first falsehood. 

Against all this the ancient Scriptures assert the 
exclusive Godhead of the Creator. " The Lord our 
God is one Lord." " The Lord he is God." "I am 
God; and beside me there is none else." "He will 
not give this glory to another." "Thou shalt have 
no other gods before me." He heaps scorn on the gods 
that cannot save. " The wood of their graven im- 
ages "he scorches with sarcasm. " They have mouths, 
but they speak not; eyes have they, but they see not; 
they have ears, but they hear not; noses have they, 
but they smell not; they have hands, but they handle 
not ; feet have they, but they walk not." Then, what 
a rebuke upon their makers and worshipers: " They 
that make them are like unto them;" as senseless 
and as stupid. They take a tree, and one part of 
it they burn, and bake bread and warm themselves 
by the fire; and " of the residue they make a god ! " 

Against all idolatry and idol gods his fiercest an- 
ger burned. He chastised his people with a whip 
of scorpions whenever they sought other gods, as 
they often did. War, pestilence, famine, the min- 
isters of his wrath, he turned loose upon therii w 
whenever they fell into idolatry. Through all the 
time of the Judges they were perpetually forsaking 
him for Baalim and Ashtaroth, and he perpetually 



34 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

whipped them hack. From the reign of Eehoboam to 
the captivity this dreadful history was repeated over 
and over. The chastisements of God were at last 
effectual. After the horrors of the invasion by Neb- 
uchadnezzar and the seventy years' captivity in Baby- 
lon, they never showed any tendency to recognize 
any other god. All usurpers of divine authority 
were cast out. I discover not the least trace of a 
polytheistic tendency after that. But by what an 
awful history the Creator secured his dominion ! 

3. The third fact ivhich I shall notice is the spiritu- 
ality of God. 

In the Old Testament this is given chiefly in the 
fact of his omnipresence. "Do not I fill all things?" 
" The heaven and heaven of heavens cannot con- 
tain thee." "Whither shall I go from thy Spirit? 
or whither shall I flee from thy presence? If I as- 
cend up into heaven, thou art there : if I make my 
bed in hell, behold thou art there. If I take the 
wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost 
parts of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me, 
and thy right hand shall hold me." This presence 
in all space, filling all things, was Spirit. If the 
Scriptures speak of God's hand, and his eye, as if 
he had bodily organs, it is to express, in a way suited 
to our comprehension, the fact of his operation. We 
are secured from misapprehension of all such pas- 
sages by repeated assertions of his independence of 
#11 physical conditions. "His eye runneth through 
the earth." That eye is no physical organ; it sim- 
ply expresses to us the fact that he sees. He sees in 
all places at once! This independence of physical 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 35 

conditions is affirmed in many places. "If I say, 
Surely the darkness shall cover me, even the night 
shall be light about me. Yea, the darkness hideth 
x not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: 
the darkness and the light are both alike to thee." 
This independence of physical conditions, this un- 
seen presence from which there can be no flight, 
contain the conditions of a spiritual essence. Al- 
though it was left to our Lord to announce in terms, 
" God is a Spirit," yet the fact is clearly and most 
impressively brought out in the Old Testament. 
The temple-service contemplated a spiritual pres- 
ence; the prophetic writings imply it. He who 
"doeth according to his will in the army of heaven, 
and among the inhabitants of the earth," is under 
the restraint of no physical limitations. 

4. These Scriptures announce the omnipotence of God. 
This appears at the very first in the creation. He 
who contemplates God as he appears in the first 
chapter of Genesis, can never doubt that those go- 
ings forth of power were from an infinite source. 
There is no limit upon the might of Him who pro- 
nounced words which orbed themselves into worlds. 
"He spake, and it was done; he commanded, and it 
stood fast." He called for worlds where there was 
nothing, and they "stood forth!" For myself, I 
have no doubt that all power is resident in spiritual 
essences. Matter is inert. It is the object, not the 
subject, of power. It responds to action, but does 
not itself act. Chemical and vital action in .matter 
forms no exception to this. In all these phenomena 
matter only submits to forces which come upon it. 



36 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

Action originates in spirit. All force is lodged there. 
All forces are born of spirit. In the Infinite Spirit 
there is infinite power. " None can say to him, What 
doest thou ? " " He taketh up the isles as a very little 
thing." He holds worlds in the hollow of his hand. 
The nations are, with him, as " the small dust of the 
balance." The nicest poise of the most delicate 
scales of the apothecary is not disturbed by a thou- 
sand particles of invisible dust that lie upon them. 
The weight of nations is no more to God. He is 
the Almighty. 

Think of the power of Him who swings all the 
worlds about within himself as lightly as down 
floats in the air! The moon and the stars were or- 
dained by him and the heavens are the work of his 
fingers — a minute production — the work of his fin- 
gers. "Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who 
hath created these things, that bringeth out their 
host by number: he calleth them all by names, by 
the greatness of his might, for that he is strong in 
power; not one faileth." 

5. The infinite wisdom is largely affirmed. 

The earlier Scriptures are radiant with this theme. 
Not only do they evince it in history, but set it out 
in abundant affirmation, and illustrate it with poetic 
opulence of imagery. " The Lord is a God of knowl- 
edge, and by him actions are weighed." " There is 
not a word in my tongue, but lo, Lord, thou know- 
est it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and 
before, and laid thine hand upon me. Such knowl- 
edge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot 
attain unto it." "Blessed be the name of God for 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 37 

ever and ever: for wisdom and might are his: . . . 
he giveth wisdom unto the wise, and knowledge to 
them that know understanding: he reveal eth the 
deep and secret things : he knoweth what is in the 
darkness, and the light dwelleth with him." " He 
that is perfect in knowledge is with thee." "He 
looketh to the ends of the earth, and seeth under 
the whole heaven." "His understanding is infi- 
nite." " There is no searching of his understand- 
ing." "0 Lord, how manifold are thy works! in 
wisdom hast thou made them all." 

The time of a sermon might be filled with quota- 
tions on this point. He that is wise in counsel is 
fully honored in these revelations. " He doeth all 
things well." 

6. He is from everlasting to everlasting. 

The Old Testament revelations are not equivocal 
on this point. They plainly affirm the eternity of 
God. They discover him " in the beginniog." Be- 
fore ever the world was, God filled space and eter- 
nity. " The eternal God is thy refuge, and under- 
neath are the everlasting arms." "A thousand 
years in thy sight are but as yesterday when it is 
past, and as a watch in the night." 

Eternal in his being, he is of course self-existent. 
He alone has independent being. He exists of him- 
self. He is liable to no mutations, inasmuch as he 
is the sum of all perfection. "I change not." " Thy 
vears are throughout all generations. Of old hast 
thou laid the foundation of the earth, and the 
heavens are the work of thy hands. They shall 
perish, but thou shalt endure: yea, all of them shall 



38 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

wax old like a garment; as a vesture shalt thou 
change them, and they shall be changed; but thou 
art the same, and thy years shall have no end." 
What a picture of the changeless amid the chang- 
ing! Even the heavens and the earth, stable as 
they seem, are yet undergoing their slow muta- 
tions. But they are only the garment of God. 
When they are worn out, he, ever the same, shall 
" change them" — shall we believe? — for a new 
heavens and earth, another garment for himself. 
Thought stands stupid before him with whom the 
duration of a world is but one swing of the pen- 
dulum that marks his moments. While the ma- 
chinery of a universe is wearing out, no touch of 
age comes upon him. When its foundations shall 
go to pieces, he will not feel the shock — such is in- 
finite strength, such is the unchangeable God. 

7. Holiness belongeth unto the Lord. 

Holiness is a word that stands by itself. Its 
meaning is divine. We are indebted to the relig- 
ion of the Bible for any word of such import. It 
expresses spiritual purity and perfection far above 
any standard of mere morality. It may never be 
predicated of any man except to express a spiritual 
condition wrought in him by the Holy Ghost. 
Nothing save the indwelling Spirit of God can in- 
troduce holiness into human life. The fullness of 
its meaning is found only in God himself. In my 
classification I include in it all his moral perfec- 
tions. It is inclusive of them all. 

On this attribute the Old Testament is won- 
drously full. "There is none holy as the Lord." 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 39 

"Who is like thee, glorious in holiness, fearful in 
praises, doing wonders?" "But thou art holy, 
thou that inhabitest the praises of Israel." His 
"name is holy." "God hath spoken in his holi- 
ness." " The Lord is righteous in all his ways, and 
holy in all his works." " God sitteth upon the 
throne of his holiness." " Sing unto the Lord, 
ye saints of his, and give thanks at the remem- 
brance of his holiness." "And one cried unto an- 
other, and said, Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of 
hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory." " Glory 
ye in his holy name." " Let them praise thy great 
and terrible name; for it is holy." But I must for- 
bear quotation. 

I have said that holiness is inclusive of all moral 
perfection. The Bible is full of the justice, truth, 
uprightness, righteousness, goodness, graciousness, 
faithfulness, compassion, long-suffering, mercy, lov- 
ing-kindness, of God. They stand in didactic state- 
ment, in poetic ascription, and in historic illustra- 
tion. He appears in absolute perfection of charac- 
ter. He cannot lie. He can do no wrong. His 
ways are right. I cannot conceive of any character 
so glorious as that in which the Creator appears in 
his own revealment. He stands in the Scriptures 
ineffably radiant in his own holy splendors. The 
very heavens, glowing with celestial light, are im- 
pure in his presence; in the light of his holiness 
they are dark. In comparison and contrast with 
him the angels stand charged with folly, and cover 
their faces. 

So, in brief and most imperfect outline, God ap- 



40 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

pears in the earlier revelations. How clear, how 
lovely, how radiant, how majestic! This is the one 
only living and trne God. 

But the design of the Old Testament Scriptures 
is, also, 

II. To ENTHRONE GOD OVER CONSCIENCE. 

This fact appears in the whole tone and tenor of 
Scripture. The manifest design of revelation is to 
bring man into right relations with the Almighty. 
It is, as I have said, but an utterance of God. Yet 
the meaning of the utterance is for man ; it is to 
take effect in man ; it is to master him, and bring 
him to his place before his Maker. That place is 
the place of reverent obedience and adoring love. 
God must be enthroned over conscience. To secure 
this, he is revealed, 

1. As Absolute Sovereign, having both right and 
power to control our life and appoint our destiny. As 
such, in a thousand forms, he commands submis- 
sion and denounces disobedience. 

(1) He publishes a law. This law is the expres- 
sion of his own character. It gives essential moral 
truth in its application to human character and 
relations. But while it postulates primary moral 
truth, it is also an expression of divine authority. 
It comes from God. It is proclaimed from the 
throne. It asserts the sovereign right of the great 
King. 

(2) He enforces the law by solemn and terrible 
sanctions. While the willing and obedient should 
eat the fruit of the land, on the rebellious should 
come blight and mildew, the locust and the canker- 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 41 

worm, pestilence and war. Fear should come as 
desolation, and destruction as a whirlwind. On the 
wicked he would rain snares, with fire and brim- 
stone and a horrible tempest. " This shall be the 
portion of their cup." 

(3) He invites the disobedient to forsake their 
way, and more than intimates a gracious adminis- 
tration, proclaiming forgiveness of iniquity, trans- 
gression, and sin, when they should turn to him. 

2. He expostulates with men as a Father, wronged 
and dishonored by the disobedience of his children. 

"If I am a Father, where is my honor?" His 
paternal care and claims have been outraged, so 
that he demands the audience of heaven and earth 
to the dishonor. "Hear, heavens, and give ear, O 
earth : for the Lord hath spoken, I have nourished 
and brought up children, and they have rebelled 
against me ! " By such expostulation and com- 
plaint does the Infinite Father seek to recall to a 
filial attitude these wayward sons. 

3. He intimates a coming Redeemer, who should 
11 bear the sins of many." On him the iniquity of 
all should be laid, and by his stripes they should 
be healed. By "love, so amazing, so divine," he 
would subdue men to himself. Surely, when infi- 
nite authority reenforces itself by dying love, all 
hearts will bow. 

By these disclosures, in the former dispensations,- 
God asserted himself over the consciences of men. 

What we have found in the Old Testament, then, 
so far, is that, first, the true idea of God is given to 
thought; and, secondly, his just claim asserted over 



42 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

conscience. And this was clone in a way, with a 
variety and character of utterance, to make it most 
effective. The method was historic, giving the ad- 
vantage of living movement and human sympathies 
as a vehicle of divine truth. The events which are 
made to body forth this truth are grand, imposing, 
startling; chosen by divine wisdom to command at- 
tention and open the understanding. Nor was the 
movement hurried. The period was ample in du- 
ration. The stage was broad. For four thousand 
years, with ever-augmenting disclosures, God was 
delivering himself upon the thought and heart of 
man. 

The manifestation begins with the genesis of 
things. The veil is drawn from over the face of 
the past, and God is seen at work, making all 
things. He shapes every world, places it, marks 
out its orbit, and delivers upon it the force that 
hurls it onward upon its path. He fills the earth 
and sea with living things innumerable. He forms 
man of the dust, breathes into him the breath of 
life, and sets him at the head of terrestrial creations. 
The enigma of the world and of life are explained. 
All things are seen in God. The world is held in 
his hand. The sun and all the stars were lighted 
from his fires. Forest and field vegetate from his 
fecundity. Beasts, and birds, and fishes, were made 
by his wisdom, with feet, and fins, and feathers, each 
suited to its own peculiar habitat. God, the living 
God, the eternal, the almighty, the all-wise, the 
Source of being, the Fountain of life, the Father 
of man, is the Supreme Fact of Genesis. 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 43 

Lovingly he places man in the garden of delights, 
gladdening him with beauty, regaling him with fra- 
grance, feasting him with fruits, and testing his filial 
fidelity hy one prohibition. He is shown as Maker, 
Father, Lawgiver. The transgression follows, and 
God immediately appears upon the scene, calling 
the culprit to account, driving him from the gar- 
den, and jealously guarding from him the tree of 
life by sleepless cherubim and fiery sword. He de- 
grades him from the recreative labor of the garden 
to the heavy toil and painful drudgery of the field. 
He sends him to a doubtful battle for bread, with 
thorns and briers, all his days. He remands him to 
the dust from which he came. Thus God appears 
in a new light — dealing with sin; so that this dread- 
ful fact in history is the occasion of bringing upon 
the foreground another divine attribute — Justice. 
Still, it is history disclosing God. He is " the Judge 
of all the earth." And now, also, on this occasion, 
another attribute faintly dawns upon our vision. 
The heavens, darkened into midnight over man by 
his sin, are touched upon the eastern edge by the 
dim radiance of Mercy, not yet revealed. "The 
seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head." 
There is a full-orbed Sun of mercy, somewhere be- 
low the horizon, that has sent this refracted ray upon 
the brow of darkness. It is written now, and here, 
that God is love. The writing is an hieroglyph, how- 
ever, and the character is not yet well deciphered. 
Coming ages will bring the interpretation. Still, the 
history reveals God. 

He is the Avenger of his people. Abel's blood 



44 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

cries to him from the ground, and the guilty Cain 
becomes a fugitive from the voice of it — a vaga- 
bond on the earth, first stained with human blood 
by him. 

The earth has become populous and sin dominant. 
Eighteous ^Toah alone stands for God. It repents 
him that he made man on the earth. He breaks the 
bond he had set upon the sea, and calls the forces of 
nature to heave all its waves upon the land. Fount- 
ains from below and rains from above whelm cities 
and plains, hills and mountains, in their deluge, and 
wash the earth from man's impurity. Yet, with a 
careful hand, the one righteous family is shut up 
and sheltered in the ark. History reveals God 
again — the God of providence, cleaning the earth 
and disinfecting the atmosphere of a moral malaria 
in which all virtue perished. Babel soon adds its 
testimony. All this is God in history — the Holy One. 

Then Abraham appears, the friend of God. Led 
out into a strange land to a place provided, God 
constitutes him the representative of mankind, and 
binds himself to him by the awful formula of an 
oath, in a solemn covenant of redeeming mercies 
for the world. The Sun of mercy sweeps upward 
toward the horizon; the light increases. "In thy 
seed shall all nations be blessed." God's hand is 
with this wonderful man. He prospers in peace 
and conquers in war, but ever by the power of the 
Most High God, to whose priest he gives " the tenth 
of the spoils." Isaac and Jacob succeed to his estates 
and his covenant. How Isaac blessed Jacob in the 
name of God, and how Jacob became Israel — a prince 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 45 

of God — through night-long wrestling and pain, I 
need not say; nor how God, through man's wick- 
edness, led Joseph into Egypt to save the chosen 
family from death by famine — ever charging him- 
self with their preservation and the fulfillment of 
his covenant. You know of the strange mercies 
that raised up Moses, and how God appeared to 
him in the bush that burned and was not con- 
sumed; how he sent him to Pharaoh, and gave 
signs and wonders in the land of Ham ; how, with 
a high hand, he led his people out; how he sym- 
bolized his presence by a cloud-column that became 
fire at night, and moved before them, pausing where 
they should camp ; and how, when they were pur- 
sued by the Egyptian army, the Presence came be- 
hind them, standing between them and their ene- 
mies, giving light from the side toward them, and 
darkness from the other. God made a path through 
the waters for them, and brought the sea back on 
their pursuers. He fed them in the wilderness, and 
clave the flinty rock to make a river for their thirst. 
This was the covenant-keeping God fulfilling his oath to 
Abraham and his word to Isaac. 

Subdued, awed, chastened, strengthened, by this 
history, already smitten with Godhead, they came 
to Sinai in the desert. The scenery, too, impressed 
them. They had never seen mountains until of late. 
These mural sublimities awe them. Moses forewarns 
them of an impending interview with God. They 
must wash their clothes. They must not tolerate 
the slightest impurity upon their persons nor in 
their tents, for God was about to speak to them. 



46 God in the Old Testament Scriptures, 

The day approaches. They are removed from the 
base of the mountain, which is to be the theater of 
the Presence. No man nor beast shall touch it, on 
pain of death. Expectation is breathless. The hour 
is at hand. The coming of God is imminent. The 
hush is perfect through all the camp. The silence 
is awful. All things are waiting for God. 

There is a sound. It is the sound of a trumpet. 
It is the trumpet of God. How deep! how solemn! 
and the great wav.es of it sweep far over the desert, 
and reverberate among distant mountains. It is 
prolonged. It waxes louder, and louder, and louder. 
Still it is prolonged, still waxes louder and louder, 
until it shakes the mountains, and there is an earth- 
quake. All at once the cloud, the black smoke, roll- 
ing in masses, the thick darkness, broken at intervals 
by a leap of chain-lightning, or an outburst of de- 
vouring flame, envelop the summit. God has come. 
He is on the mountain, hiding his presence in the 
black canopy. And now thunders of sevenfold 
power and loudness crown the terrors of the day. 

This is no mere display. It is the symbol of 
power, and majesty, and justice, and is the back- 
ground on which the law is portrayed. All its 
voices are but the emphasis of law. All its light- 
nings are ministers of God, to avenge the violation 
of his law. Its lire-jets are outbursts of the wrath 
that guards the law. The law itself is the expres- 
sion of God's holiness. Sinai, then, is an overwhelm- 
ing utterance of God, in his sovereignty, his holiness, his 
justice. This history still shows the grandness, and 
through it the trumpet still waxes loud till hearts 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 47 

quake, and the concussion of the thunder jars men's 
souls to-day. God and his law take a meaning, to us, 
from this history that they could not otherwise have. 

But time fails me. The journey through the wil- 
derness, the enemies put to flight, the sun held still, 
the mysterious burial of Moses, the leadership of 
Joshua, the settlement of the land in the face of 
enemies, the eventful era of the Judges, the king 
demanded and granted, with the wonderful ritual, 
its priests without blemish, and lambs without spot, 
make a history all full of God. The reign of David, the 
grandeur of Solomon, the wondrous temple, its ded- 
ication and appointments, still renew and augment the 
volume of the voice that announces God. Then comes 
the downward course of backslidings in Israel, with 
partial repentance and still deeper backsliding to the 
time of the captivity; God forgotten and asserting 
himself in dreadful woes, forgotten again and ever- 
more renewing the assertion, in famine, and blood, 
and fire, and smoke, and the confused noise of bat- 
tle. All the later history of the Jews was a repeti- 
tion of divine utterances, prolonged, intensified, con- 
centrated, until at last the meaning of his name was 
understood. He laid siege to the citadel of depraved 
thought and idolatrous feeling, and never raised it 
until he made the conquest, and established a pure 
theism among men. 

Then there are the Psalms making heavenly mu- 
sic of the name of God. From first to last, the Lord, 
his power, and majesty, and holiness, and mercy, and 
truth — all the glories of his name — his faithfulness, 
his care of his people, his mighty acts, his wonder- 



48 God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 

ful ways, are the theme of impassioned poetry. The 
whole Book of Job culminates in the voice of God 
at last. The prophets are God's messengers, giving 
God's will and warning to men. Their sentences 
pulsate with his presence. I did intend to be more 
minute — to show how God appears in Isaiah, Eze- 
kiel, Habakkuk, and all the rest. But I cannot. 
The time fails me. I must come to the end. 

The Law, the Prophets, the Psalms, the History, from 
a thousand sources, and by ten thousand voices, gather 

UP THE MEANINGS OF THE NAME OF GOD AND DELIVER 
THEM TO MAN. 

About the time the Name became supreme with 
the chosen people, they became scattered, from one 
cause and another, over the whole civilized world. 
In our Saviour's day, they were in considerable num- 
bers in all the cities of Asia Minor and Europe, and 
had synagogues everywhere. The Bible-history 
was in them, and with it the Name it uttered. The 
Name, and its import, they had spread over the en- 
tire world. 

This prolonged utterance through all the triumphs 
and woes of peace and war, the varied forms of 
miracle and metaphor, coming through Eden, Egypt, 
Sinai, and Babylon, had cleared a place for God in 
thought, and established for him a power over conscience 
that, in view of the depravity of man, we must con- 
sider wonderful indeed. And this was an effect 
absolutely demanded as prerequisite to the coming 
of Christ. God, in his character of holiness, and 
in his relation as Sovereign, must become indubit- 
able in thought, and in the moral sense, before the 



God in the Old Testament Scriptures. 49 

world could understand the mission of the Son of 
God. 

Meanwhile, the dawn was brightening. In the 
era of prophecy, the Sun of mercy n eared the hori- 
zon. Isaiah saw his glory, and spoke of him. The 
law, the school-master, was doing his work in man, to 
prepare him for Christ. Type and prophecy were 
doing their work, preparing his credentials. 

III. Thus the world was prepared for the coming 
of Christ, who is himself the final and highest ut- 
terance of the Godhead. 

All these announcements of himself had only 
quickened the ear of man for a fuller utterance. 
These revelations, grand and glorious as they were, 
were only preparing man for richer disclosures. 
They were only accustoming the eye to light, so 
that the risen Sun might not blind it. They pre- 
pared the world for Christ, who himself would be, 
in the fullness of it, the Word of God — another, and 
the final, disclosure of the Infinite to man. 

But this theme must occupy another Sermon. 
3 



50 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 



#od tit the Jfrtti Sfestentfltf %m$6xm. 



SERMON II. 

"God was manifest in the flesh." 1 Tim. iii. 16. 

IN" the preceding Sermon, " God in the Old Testa- 
ment Scriptures," I stated that man, depraved 
as he is, required a preparatory revelation, and par- 
ticularly that the depraved tendencies of human 
thought required to be corrected by a long course 
of actual manifestations of God in many forms, 
making a history in which the true theistic idea 
should assert itself with such power as to become 
rooted in the thought of the world so deeply that it 
must live there forever. It was imperative that the 
unity, spirituality, personality, and holiness of God 
should be established and cleared of all doubt. So 
God was enthroned in the thought and over the 
conscience of man. 

But this clear expression of the theistic idea 
brought also into distinct relief the fact of man's 
sin. As the divine holiness comes into light, human 
corruption stands over against it in inevitable con- 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 51 

trast. Man appears in antagonism with God. In 
the depraved theism of mythology this antagonism 
does not appear. The gods — many of them, at least 
— were as corrupt as men ; there was a fellowship of 
sensuality with them and their worshipers. Ap- 
proach to them was not at all embarrassed by the 
consciousness of sin in the devotee. But the white 
light of holiness in which the theistic idea is set in 
the Hebrew Scriptures brings into disgusting black- 
ness all the impurities of our nature. The wor- 
shiper is overwhelmed; his mouth is shut; he is 
paralyzed. 

In his holiness God is also sovereign. His law is 
over us. He punishes those who violate it. We 
are not only impure in his sight, we are also cul- 
prits. His wrath is revealed against our misdeeds. 
We are guilty before him; we are undone. He 
threatens us with death, which is impending. The 
result is separation from God. On the throne of 
his holiness he is inaccessible to us. ISTo man can 
approach unto him. His ineffable purity repels us. 
We are lost; we are shut up to despair. 

Out of this despair there is egress but by one pos- 
sible method. That method is, 

A manifestation of God, providing a remedy for the 
corruption of our nature. 

We have seen, in the Sermon before referred to, 
that in the Old Testament Scriptures such a mani- 
festation is constantly intimated, and that the reve- 
lation then made looked to the full disclosure of a 
gracious purpose toward man. In other words, its 
object was (1) to set God in the true light in thought; 



52 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

(2) to enthrone him over conscience; and (3) thus to pre- 
pare the world for the coming of Christ, who is himself 
the final and highest utterance of Godhead. 

Wherein is this New Testament utterance more 
complete or higher than the Old? We have in the 
Old Testament the personality, the unity, the spirit- 
uality, the omnipotence, the omniscience, the immu- 
tability, the holiness, the sovereignty of God, clearly 
stated. He appears in the long course of its history 
as Creator, Ruler, Judge. The method is historic, 
giving the facts, not in a cold formula, but in living 
power. In what respect does the last disclosure 
transcend the former? 

I answer: 

I. In the manner, and, 

II. In the matter oe it. 
I. In the manner of it. 

The method is still historic; but how changed, how 
divinely peculiar, is this New Testament history! 

In the Old we see the Invisible creating the 
heavens and the earth, speaking through prophets, 
sending angels, destroying his enemies by an unseen 
power, hiding himself in a cloud-canopy on Mount 
Sinai, shaking the earth, flashing forth lightning, 
and uttering dread voices; we see him controlling 
events and working his will among nations. In all 
these facts he makes his name articulate with its 
holy meaning. 

Yet, after all this, he comes still nearer to man. 
He comes into history in another form, more strik- 
ing, more commanding. He speaks with another 
voice, more intelligible, and with deeper, richer tone. 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 53 

He shows himself to us in a nearer view and in a 
new lisdit. He becomes manifest under new condi- 
tions, which expose him more fully to our eye3. 

He comes in the Incarnation — actually walking 
among us in our own form, and doing his work in 
the midst of us, through human organs and by our 
methods. He is Immannel — God with us. "The 
"Word was God." "And the Word was made flesh, 
and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory." 
" God was manifest in the flesh." 

Certainly the divine nature did not narrow itself 
down to the limits of a human being. The Infinite 
did not take on any limitation. Nor may we pre- 
sume to comprehend, or formulate, the manner of 
the union between the divine and the human nat- 
ures; but the fact is before us. Here is a man doing 
God's work. He does not affect to do it, but does it 
in our sight. He does it under conditions which pre- 
clude the possibility of collusion, and upon a scale 
that puts away all thought of human agency, with 
whatever advantage of contrivance or combination. 
One man is born blind, and, amongst his friends who 
have known him always, is instantly invested with 
the power of sight. Another was buried by his 
neighbors four days ago: a word rescues his flesh 
from putrescence, and restores him to life and to his 
sisters. Christ says to the tempest and to the sea, 
"Peace, be still," and there is a great calm. The 
shriveled flesh of the paralytic rounds into ruddy 
vigor; the dead crust of leprosy softens into the 
pliant elasticity of health and youth. 

He does not, like Moses and the prophets, call on 



54 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

God to work wonders; he puts forth his own power, 
in his own name. In his absence his disciples in- 
voke his name, and through them, as in the case of 
the old prophets, wonders are wrought. To his dis- 
ciples he said, "Without me ye can do nothing." 
For himself, lie said to the leper, "I will: be thou 
clean." 

Not less divine were his words than his ivorks. 
His doctrine transcended all human speech as far 
as his acts did all human power. Officers, com- 
manded to arrest him, on their approach were par- 
alyzed by the words which fell from his lips. The 
only excuse they made for their failure, when they 
reported to those who had sent them, was, "E"ever 
man spake like this man." Even as we read the 
discourses of Christ, we see that they occupy their 
own place in literature, standing apart from, and 
altogether above, the writings of men. They came 
from a Mind whose intuition of divine truth is infi- 
nitely above the best results and most patient labor 
of genius and research. There is no labor in these 
discourses; they flow without effort. They are sim- 
ply divine light shining from its original Source. 
It is not intellection in them that strikes you ; it is 
light — heavenly light. 

In personal dignity and purity, Christ is himself 
a miracle. 

The eulogies of his enemies alone, so far as purity 
of character goes, make him more than a demigod. 
Men who have set themselves to discredit him be- 
fore the world have been strangely awed by the 
grandeur of his holiness, and swift witnesses against 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 55 

him have been blinded by the effulgence of his name. 
That name! It awes men, whether they will or 
not ; it enforces reluctant worship from malignant 
tongues ; it is in the world to-day, both in the 
thought of friends and enemies, the name that is 
above every name. 

But what touches us most nearly is that this 
Holy One was in our form. It is a human finger 
that touches the dead eyeball, but the effect wrought 
by it is a divine work. This human voice pronounced 
upon the ears of Lazarus is the vehicle of a divine 
potency. God works through human organs. The 
human and divine are united here ; they are strangely 
one. Christ is a man ! Christ is God ! Yet the 
human is distinct from the divine. The two are 
not lost in each other any more than flesh and 
spirit are lost in each other in human personality. 
But flesh and spirit are united in one, and constitute 
a personal unit. Christ is God. I know it. His 
voice is God's voice ; his words are God's words ; 
his miracles are God's works. Yet is he also a 
man. It is not any mere simulation of human 
nature; it is real. He is my Elder Brother; he is 
bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh. 

Nor is it human nature apart from the humilia- 
ting conditions of humanity, excepting only in the 
fact of its purity. It was subject to all the inci- 
dents of birth, infancy, helplessness, labor, pain, 
sorrow, and death; it was endowed with a social 
nature in common with all of us. By means of 
this he felt all the injustice and wrong he encount- 
ered. He was sensitive to the contradiction of sin- 



56 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

ners. He felt the indifference of the disciples to- 
ward his agony, when they could not watch one 
honr for heaviness. He felt the treachery of Jndas ; 
it was like iron piercing his heart. He felt the de- 
nial of Peter; it was the cowardly desertion of a 
friend. 

He was susceptible — how deeply! — of all the 
endearments of friendship. "Jesus loved Martha, 
and Lazarus, and their sister." 

Thus God in Christ speaks to us directly through 
our sympathies and sensibilities. Against this voice 
we cannot close our ears; its solicitations penetrate 
us in spite of ourselves. Godhead comes in upon us, 
whether we will or not. If we reject him, it must 
be by an effort of mad unbelief. 

It is no voice from the unseen and awful abysm 
that speaks to us; nor is it a display of frightful 
portents, menacing us. It is not a movement of 
dread forces against us. It is an appeal to us in the 
form of a man, our fellow ; and though it be God 
speaking, yet it is in a voice that does not repel. 

And the utterance is not in a form that defies my 
capacity or transcends my understanding. A little 
child might receive it. It reveals the will of God 
in the utmost simplicity of statement, and in the 
most expressive facts. 

In every fact that can arrest the ear, or reach the 
understanding, or engage the heart, this final reve- 
lation is the highest expression of the wisdom of 
God. It comes to man in precisely the same form 
and voice that touch him most deeply and win 
him most effectually. A man, such as Jesus of 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 57 

Nazareth, so pure, so unselfish, so full of love, so 
free from self-assertion, doing good, doing nothing 
but good, loving his enemies, rendering good for 
evil — a man dying as be did, so dignified and self- 
contained in the midst of all the aggravation and 
insults of the mock trial, persistently loving his 
murderers to the last, praying for them even while 
tbey were nailing him to the cross — such a man, 
even if he were but a man, must command the 
homage of the whole world. But when he calls 
himself the Son of God, one with the Father, 
and speaks to us of our souls, of our sins, of death, 
of judgment, of eternity, of the kingdom of God, 
of the new birth — when we hear words coming out 
of his mouth that make our hearts burn, words that 
throb in us like great life-pulses from God — we feel 
that he has laid an attraction upon us never felt 
before. It is God coming upon us through human 
channels, and magnetizing us through those sym- 
pathies and sensibilities that open the heart of man 
to his brother. He comes upon us in the form of 
a brother, and from thi*s vantage-ground speaks 
to us. 

This New Testament revelation combines all that 
is most tender in human susceptibility with the voice 
and authority of God. By whatever elements of 
consciousness we are open to the approach of both 
man and God, it comes to us; and inasmuch as 
the God ward susceptibility is so blunted by our de- 
praved condition, the more vital human sensibilities 
are made the vehicle of approach, and the medium 
through which our ear is quickened to the voice of 
3* 



58 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

God. He comes to us on the most accessible side, 
and delivers himself upon our most vulnerable point. 

Nor is there wanting the grandeur and majesty 
of the Old Testament times. The annunciation, 
the star of the wise men, the announcement of his 
birth to the shepherds by an angel whose glory 
kindled the heavens into a blaze, the song of celes- 
tial choristers, the words of Anna and Simeon in 
the temple, the angelic warning, the flight into 
Egypt; and later, his baptism, the opening heavens 
out of which in a bodily shape the Holy Ghost de- 
scended upon him, and the voice from above the 
cleft sky proclaiming him the well-beloved Son; 
and later still, the Transfiguration in the mount, his 
person and his garments blazing with celestial 
light — are facts which, if less terrible, are yet more 
imposing, than the Old Testament displays. Great- 
est of all was that darkness from the sixth hour 
even until the ninth hour, when the Lord was on 
the cross; the earthquake, and saints coming out 
of their graves and showing themselves to many in 
the holy city. These are 'flashes of the divine light 
emanating from Christ, the celestial halo about his 
human form. 

He is everything to us that the highest ideal and 
nearest brotherhood of humanity could be, with all 
the dignity and glory of Godhead. 

It remains to consider, 

II. The matter of the New Testament revela- 
tion AS DISTINGUISHED FROM THE OLD. 

I mean, of course, such matter as respects the 
nature and character of God. 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 59 

It can scarcely be said that any new fact of the 
divine nature or character has been stated in these 
Scriptures which is not also to be found in the Old. 
If there is an exception, it is in the fact of the 
Trinitj 7 , which will be presented more at large 
hereafter. But in many respects the statement is 
more ample and distinct. God exposes himself 
more fully; he relates himself to us so as to give 
a deeper insight into his being; the voice in 
which he speaks to us has a richer tone and a 
larger meaning. 

The truth of this statement will appear when we 
consider the teachings of the New Testament. 

1. AS TO THE SPIRITUALITY OF THE DlVINE ESSENCE. 

In the revelations that precede the coming of 
Christ this essential truth is implied in the state- 
ment of divine ubiquity, rather than affirmed in 
any categorical manner. But our Lord said, in 
terms, " God is a Spirit." The woman at the well 
of Samaria had asserted the superior claim of the 
place where she offered worship to God over that 
where the solemnities of the Jewish ritual were ob- 
served. Against all localizing of worship, against 
confining or limiting it, the Lord delivered this 
sublime dogma: "God is a Spirit, and they that 
worship him must worship him in spirit and in 
truth." Not on this mountain, nor on that, is he to 
be worshiped with especial acceptance. Even the 
most enlightened Jew, in his wanderings, turned 
his face toward Jerusalem when he prayed. But 
now, henceforth, let him know that not in the 
temple, but in a spirit filled with contrition and 



60 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

faith, God is found. He is a Spirit. He is not 
related to space in any limited, localizing way. He 
fills all space, and responds to the worship of the 
heart as well in Persia or in Greece as on Mount 
Zion. Places devoted to holy solemnities affect our 
imaginations, but they are not in any special way, 
beyond other places, related to the Infinite Pres- 
ence. 

Even after all the light of successive revelations 
men reach the conception of spiritual essences but 
imperfectly. They are confounded with abstrac- 
tions. We must clear our minds of this. Spirit is 
substance. It is the absolute substance. It was before 
matter, and gave birth to matter. It is the deposi- 
tory of force, the source of all motion. It is the 
only substance which is essentially, of its own nat- 
ure, vital, and in which is inherent voluntary power. 
Every spiritual existence is a simple unit, an un- 
compounded substance. The Infinite Spirit, the 
Father of spirits, in conscious unity of being, knows 
no limit of space. The vital, conscious personality 
and power of his nature are not to be sunk in scho- 
lastic platitudes. The ign orance of him that attempts 
to compensate its incapacity of comprehending him 
by endless misty mumbling of learned postulates 
about the absolute and unconditioned may strain 
its eyes in this fruitless gaze toward the limits of 
the Infinite until it becomes blind to the substance 
of Godhead, and, confused and bewildered, may 
miss the glorious vision of the Creator. The high- 
est truth is not clearly seen by the intellect. There 
is a higher faculty in man than the understanding. 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 61 

It is faith. It is by this that he is related con- 
sciously to God. He may reason with endless volu- 
bility of hypothesis and postulate, of predicate and 
conclusion, about the conditioned and uncondi- 
tioned; but faith, transcending all this, holds intui- 
tive communion with the Infinite Spirit — all-wise, 
everywhere-present, omnipotent — Creator, Conser- 
vator, Judge. 

2. As to the Trinity. There is not wanting in 
the earliest revelations some hint of pluri-unity in 
the Godhead. The very first time God speaks his 
name to man it is in the plural form — Elohim. In 
the wonderful, formal announcement of the creative 
purpose, when man was to be made, " God said, Let 
us make man." 

God, the Spirit of God, the Son of God, appear, 
incomprehensibly united, incomprehensibly distin- 
guished, iu the law and the prophets. " Take not 
thy Holy Spirit from me." "Thou art my Son; 
this day have I begotten thee." 

But this distinction of persons in the unity of the 
Godhead appears much more frequently, and in a 
much more precise and formal statement, in the 
Gospels and Epistles. The very incarnation of the 
Son sets him, as he is related to the Father, con- 
stantly before us. He promised to send, after his 
ascension, another Comforter — the Holy Ghost. He 
commanded his disciples to baptize in the name of 
the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. 
These three appear everywhere in the Epistles, dis- 
tinguished, yet united. The same power, and glory, 
and majesty, are ascribed to them. "These three 



62 God in the New Testament Scriptur 



es. 



are one." Christ is " God over all, blessed forever 
more." The Holy Spirit is God; for blasphemy 
against him is the chief sin. 

There is no effort to formulate the trinnity of 
the Godhead. It is not put in terms of scientific 
definition. It enters into revelation just as the 
name of God does at first. It just appears in the 
narrative. It is not addressed to the understanding 
so much as to faith. The mode of it is not revealed, 
but onty the fact. 

Yet is it not, as some have foolishly said, a fact 
against reason. That three should be in one is not 
self - contradictory. It appears in many facts of 
nature. 'Not that these facts of nature can be taken 
as expressing in any adequate way the mode of the 
Divine Trinity. They do, however, most clearly 
show the possibility of the fact. God is Three in 
One. 

The tendency to lose the fact of the Divine Unity 
out of thought was set forth in the former Sermon. 
We have seen how strong this tendency is, show- 
ing itself even to this day, and in Christendom- 
There is a strange disposition to break up and di- 
vide out the attributes and prerogatives of Jehovah 
among a multitude of inferior deities. It seems 
impossible to keep thought up to the altitude of the 
Infinite. In the infirmity of a depraved condition 
it must shade the divine glory before it can look 
steadily upon it. 

For this very reason, perhaps, man was not ready 
for the fact of the Incarnation, nor for any large 
statement of the fact of the Trinity, until, by the 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 63 

method of the Old Testament, God had held his ear 
for ages and ages to the statement, "The Lord our 
God is one Lord." At last, through the long agony 
of that method, the fact of the Divine Unity took 
form and rooted itself in human thought too deeply 
to he displaced. Before that time faith in the In- 
carnation and in the Trinity would have drifted, hy 
a fatal and necessary gravitation, into polytheism. 
But at last the great fact that God is One has gone 
into thought under conditions to preserve it there 
forever. 

Yet man's thought of God is inadequate. The 
Infinite is too remote; or, if he comes near on Sinai, 
the blaze blinds us. His holiness overwhelms us in 
our corruption. Any near vision of him pains us; 
a more remote, speculative contemplation of him is 
without practical value. 

He comes nearer to us. The Son of God becomes 
incarnate — enters actually into brotherhood with us 
— and Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, in infinite, sov- 
ereign power and love, at once baptize us with a 
sense of the All Holy. 

Is it true that the conception of the Father eter- 
nal, the Son from eternity begotten, and the Spirit 
eternally proceeding from the Father and the Son, is 
a necessary condition of vital, sustained, operative 
faith in God? If not, why has all Christian theism 
that has rejected the doctrine of the Trinity been so 
sterile? The denial of the divinity of Christ has in 
all Christendom been coincident with a vapid, loose, 
attenuated, unproductive ecclesiasticism; while, on 
the contrary, where "the Head, which is Christ," is 



64 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

truly held in his divine honor, there is life and power, 
though many and great errors in other matters creep 
in. You may measure the force of a Church hy the 
character and quality of its faith in Christ. 

There is a fatal drift toward pantheism (except 
among the Jews) wherever the divinity of Christ 
and the doctrine of the Trinity are denied. 

There may be a truth here too deep for our phi- 
losophy, and yet unconsciously present in processes 
of thought, guiding the Unitarian evermore to an 
abstraction, and the Trinitarian to the Creator and 
Sovereign of the universe. The hypothesis, which 
I venture to believe a truth, is that in the fact of 
the Trinity is the essential condition of the divine 
fecundity, and that an unconscious perception of 
this determines the course of theistic philosophy, 
and insures the results' just now indicated. 

3. As to the divine justice. It might be sup- 
posed that the highest possible expression of the 
divine justice had been given at Sinai, and in the 
primitive history of the Jewish nation. By justice 
I mean the inflexible purpose of God to maintain 
and vindicate his most holy law, which itself is in- 
finitely just and right. 

But the Christian revelation is in advance of the 
Jewish, in this particular, by an almost inconceiva- 
ble distance. In former revelations the issue of sin 
in the eternal state is scarcely mentioned. There is 
no clear view of the second death. Some intimation 
of it is certainly there; but there is no such clear 
and dreadful affirmation as that which the Lord 
Jesus and his apostles have given. We do not dis- 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 65 

cover there the smoke of their torment ascending 
up forever and ever. The force of the divine will, 
guarding and guaranteeing all that is good and holy 
— guaranteeing it by the overthrow and destruction 
of sin and the sinner which assail it — as it appears 
in these latest revelations, has all the energy of 
Godhead. It is infinite justice. The agony of the 
soul-death, unutterable, unending, is the due pen- 
alty of sin; it is inevitable. By all the truth and 
holiness of his being, God will inflict it. " The 
Lord Jesus shall be revealed from heaven with his 
mighty angels, in flaming Are taking vengeance on 
them- that know not God, and that obey not the 
gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ." No sophistry of 
exegesis can mitigate this doctrine. A man has no 
alternative but to reject the New Testament or be- 
lieve it. 

And it is true. Justice is in the category of first 
principles, of absolute truth. The necessary cor- 
rollary of justice is penalty. Incorrigible sin, eter- 
nal pains — these are the correlatives of each other. 
But I cannot enlarge. 

Yet this is not the highest conception of the di- 
vine justice which is given in the New Testament 
Scriptures ; the final statement of it is in the Atone- 
ment. 

The Son of God himself suffers for sin; he puts 
himself in the place of sinners; he stands before the 
law in their name. We might suppose that his 
mere appearance in their cause would have been suf- 
ficient. No! Even on his honored, beloved head 
the blow falls. Justice asserts its supremacy on his 



66 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

divine person; he dies under its inflictions. He 
who stands in the place and attitude of a sinner 
must die. !Not even the Son of God could under- 
take it and escape. This is infinite justice; and in 
it the peace of the universe finds its absolute guar- 
anty. Disorder can enjoy no impunity, can make 
no headway. 

4. As to the love of God. As we owe to the 
New Testament the postulate, in terms, " God is a 
Spirit," so we owe to it also this other, " God is 
Love." 

The love of God does not want expression in the 
Old Testament; but its expression is not paramount. 
His holiness and justice are more in view, and it is 
the fear of God that appears more as the just affec- 
tion of the human heart toward him. One of his 
names is " The Fear of Isaac." 

The Christian revelation, on the contrary, brings 
the love of God into supreme expression, and sanc- 
tified affections culminate in love to God. 

But the Incarnation and the Crucifixion contain 
tVie final and the highest disclosure of the infinite 
love. 

" God so loved the world that he gave his only- 
begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should 
not perish, but have everlasting life." This gives at 
once the fact and the measure of his love to man. 
This text takes us to the very fountain of the divine 
motives, and discloses the inner nature of God. 

lie who imagines that the sufferings of Christ 
procured God's love to man exactly reverses the 
order. "God so loved the world that he gave his 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 67 

only-begotten Son." The advent and sufferings of 
Christ show us the love of God, but do not cause 
him to love us. His love, on the contrary, caused 
him to send his Son into the world, "to seek and to 
save the lost." 

We may well believe that God loved man, for it 
was in him that the labor of creation culminated. I 
cannot suppose that there is any thing in the mate- 
rial universe that the Creator could have regarded 
as an end of his labor. He could hold it as of any 
value only as it was the basis of something higher, 
as it formed the residence of man. When creation 
was crowned by intelligent life, it began to have 
some worthy meaning. The. Creator may now re- 
ceive a revenue of conscious worship amongst his 
creatures; he may be mirrored in their love. The 
only revenue he gathers out of all his dominions is 
the love and worship of intelligent creatures; the 
only object of his love is intelligent life. 

When man fell away from him the labor of crea- 
tion was lost; the end for which the world was 
made was defeated; the revenue of love that flowed 
to him was alienated. Man was lost to him, and, 
being lost to God, was himself most miserably lost 
and undone. God loved him. He was the ideal of 
creation. The material world was created just to be 
the theater of his existence. All the work of crea- 
tion looked forward lovingly toward him, and antici- 
pated the moment when he should stand amid the 
glories of the universe self-conscious and conscious 
of the Creator, when, suffused with an ineffable 
sense of God, he should worship. But now he is 



68 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

lost and undone; and yet God loves him, and loves 
him so that he sends his Son after him, to recover 
him, to redeem him, to restore him to God and to 
his own high destiny in God. " Herein is love, not 
that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent 
his Son to be the propitiation for our sins." The 
love of God in Christ appears, 

(1) In the fact of the Incarnation. He comes 
down to us in- our sin and misery, and takes his 
abode with us in our house of clay. Certainly he 
alienates nothing of his essential glory, but to our 
eye what a condescension is this! From the wor- 
ship of angels, he comes here to be misunderstood 
by miserable men, whom yet he comes to save. He 
becomes poor to make us rich. The very fact of 
his coming shows us how God loved us. God sent 
him. " He was conceived by the Holy Ghost." " He 
took not on him the nature of angels, but the seed 
of Abraham." God sent him not to the high estate 
of angels, but to the condition and estate of man, 
under the disgrace and in the degradation of a 
dreadfully fallen and ruined condition. "Conceived 
by the Holy Ghost, born of the Virgin Mary." He 
came into our flesh with all its infirmities, sicknesses, 
and pains. Not as he fills all things was he in the 
man Christ Jesus, but in an actual personal identity; 
not limiting himself by the conditions of the human 
nature, but entering it and joining himself to it in 
a conscious personal unity. He was the Son of God 
and the Son of man. 

See him in his helpless infancy: he is the Son 
of God come in amongst us in love to save us. See 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 69 

him in childhood, under the vexatious discipline of 
drudgery and poverty: he is the Son of God come 
to share all our humiliations that he may redeem us 
out of them. See him in early manhood, patiently 
toiling in the trade of a carpenter: he is the Son 
of God, come to live amongst us, not ahove us, but 
to be with us in the shop, and get our ear through 
the sympathies and confidences of our lowliest con- 
dition. He does not send great help from a proud 
distance, but comes into the midst of our miseries 
and lays hold of us with a mighty love. 

(2) The love of God in Christ appears in the work 
he did on earth. All his life was love. " He went 
about doing good." His miracles were works of 
beneficence. The divine power he exerted was al- 
ways in love, healing and helping man. There were 
no malignant miracles. The whole history of them 
is as much a history of love as of power. 

(3) The love of God had its ultimate expression 
in the death of Christ. He was given up to death 
on our account; God delivered him up for us all. 
No circumstance of degradation or pain did he 
shun. To reach man and save him, he must go 
into the black depths. No holiday aifectation of 
charity could redeem him. Awful agony of con- 
descension and suffering alone could accomplish the 
end. The Saviour stood on the border of the hor- 
rible deeps where man was, and saw all the agony, 
and shuddered; and for one moment paused, and 
turned his eyes in anguish toward heaven, and cried, 
"0 my Father!'" and then plunged in. 

In the horrible abyss he found — first, the betrayal, 



70 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

by one of his own, Judas, for a paltry price, and 
with a kiss. Betrayed by the very sign of love! 
Think ye not that the Lord of truth and love felt 
himself then to be ingulfed in the lowest infamies 
when he was allured by the token of peace into the 
snare of death? He found there the dismal night 
in the high-priest's palace, w T here he was mocked 
and jeered through the long, black, heavy hours, 
till the morning itself seemed under a pall when it 
came. He found there the denial of Peter. In that 
abyss he found Pilate's judgment-seat, with the 
mockery of its pretense, and the horrid imperti- 
nence of patrician courtes}^, bowing between Pilate 
and Herod, making his degradation the occasion 
of vapid compliments and a hollow reconciliation. 
Think of all this play of elaborate and elegant af- 
fectation about the Saviour in his anguish ! He 
was dying for those very men. Then there was the 
crown of thorns, the points inward, tearing his 
temples; the mock robe, and the deriding saluta- 
tion, "Hail, King of the Jews!" There was the 
cruel scourging, the flesh of his sacred back torn 
by the lash. There was the fierce, hellish glare 
from the mob of brutal faces closing upon him on 
all sides, while his mother and John look the an- 
guish of their helpless love from the outskirts. He 
could call twelve legions of angels to his rescue now. 
" But for this cause came he to this hour." He gives 
himself up. That hand has waved tempests into 
silence — yea, it has flung worlds along their path- 
way — but how helpless it looks now, as those who 
crucify him lay the back of it against the beam, and 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 71 

plant the blunt end of the nail upon the palm/and 
swing the heavy hammer and drive it home! 

They even insult his helplessness. " If thou be 
the Son of God, come down from the cross." " He 
saved others, but he cannot save himself." 

Look on him now in the black deeps. See his 
pale face, and white lips quivering with pain. He 
is there of his own choice. Into this abyss he has 
come because we are here. All this humiliation and 
suffering is but the physical side of sin. He has 
come down here to find us and save us. This is 
God's love. He expresses it to us in the dying face 
and convulsed body of Christ on the cross. In this 
form we can see it and understand it. He sends us 
his message of love by a human voice breaking un- 
der its load of woe. " My God, my God, why hast 
thou forsaken me?" 

(4) The only additional emphasis that could be 
given to this utterance of the Son of God is given 
in the Ascension. Having redeemed our nature, he 
has actually gone up with it into the highest heavens, 
and taken his seat at the right hand of the Majesty 
on high. There, in our nature, united with God's 
nature, he is the Mediator between God and men. 

All this history of the Incarnation, the life, the 
labor, the sufferings, the death, the ascension, and 
the mediation of Christ, is but another, a more com- 
manding, a more tender, and touching, and con- 
vincing, utterance of the statement, " God is love." 

The Sun of mercy has ascended above the hori- 
zon. The light shines no longer upon the earth in 
refracted beams of prophecy, but in the full splen- 



72 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

dor of its divine radiance. God has sacrificed his 
Son for us. He laid our iniquities upon him. He 
has borne our sins. Now God can be just and the 
justifier of him that believeth in Jesus. The throne 
of mercy is established, and sin is pardoned freely, 
through the blood of Christ. 

The law revealed to us the holiness and justice 
of the one only living and true God, and we saw 
our own sin and guilt in this light. By it we must 
have been remitted to despair. God can have no 
fellowship with sin; but the Son of God takes our 
nature, and, absolutely holy himself, suffers for us; 
and, through the substituted pain of Jesus, the sin- 
ner who gives up his sins may go free. This reve- 
lation enhances our view T of the justice and holiness 
of God. It gives a yet more awful splendor to the 
divine purity than the Old Testament does. It ex- 
alts the divine character in that particular. Even 
his Son, when he stands in the place of sinners, 
must suffer; so impossible is it that the throne of 
God should have fellowship with iniquity. And 
yet, by the atoning sacrifice, it makes the throne 
accessible to the contrite sinner. The Lord of life 
and glory has suffered for us. He has made a full, 
perfect, and sufficient oblation and satisfaction for 
the sins of the whole world. The fullness of infi- 
nite love has made a channel for itself through 
which it can pour itself in a baptism of life and 
peace upon man forevermore. He has constituted 
in the Incarnate One a vital point of contact — sav- 
ing contact — with man. Prepared by the Old Tes- 
tament revelations of the unity, power, spiritual- 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 73 

ity, and holiness of God, we receive him now, more 
fully made known in all those attributes, yet com- 
ing down to us, grappling upon us in a wondrous 
manifestation in Christ, and washing us in the blood 
of the cross, that he may exalt us to the communion 
of his own ineffable life forevermore. 

We see the "light of the knowledge of the glory 
of God shining in the face of Jesus Christ." We 
see the glory of God in the mirror of a human face 
and form. 

The spotless purity, the stainless truth, are there. 
The power that wields the forces of nature, that 
kills death and creates life, is there. The justice 
that visits sin with inevitable death is seen there. 
The love that offers itself a willing victim for lost 
man is there — the love that takes rescued human- 
ity up out of hades into the highest heavens. 

This manifestation of God in man sets humanity 
also in its true light. Nothing else exalts man as 
the Christian revelation does. 

It shows us how God has set his heart on man. 
He has joined humanity to himself in the Incarna- 
tion forever. However low man's estimate of himself, 
in the grossness of depraved thought, may be, God 
has put unspeakable honor upon him. " He took 
not on him the nature of angels, but the seed of 
Abraham." " He was made of a woman," and 
thought it not too much even to go to the cross 
for us. 

Depend upon it, there is much more in man than 
the present aspects and ambitions of life may indi- 
cate. God sees the germ of a greatness in him 
4 



74 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

which, in the eternal state, will justify the dread 
labor of his Son in our behalf. When mortality 
shall be swallowed up of life, and men shall appear 
in the power and splendors of their celestial destiny, 
then " He shall see of the travail of his soul, and 
shall be satisfied." What mind can imagine the 
glory of man when Christ shall see in it the com- 
pensation of his agony? 

Thus we see that the Incarnation was not & final 
act. In it there was nothing ultimate. It was but 
a first movement, to find its consummation in an- 
other. God came down to man, not for the mere 
sake of the condescension, but having an end in 
view. He touched thus manifestly- upon humanity 
that he might magnetize it; that he might lay his 
attraction on it, and thus lift it to himself. God 
came down to man that he might bring man up 
consciously to God. Nor can man come to God 
through any other medium. 

God must be met in Christ — seen in him — or else, 

First, there will be the helpless, hopeless Sina- 
itic faith of Judaism ; or, 

Secondly, the vacuity of pantheism; or, 

Thirdly, the grossness of idolatry and polythe- 
ism; or, 

Fourthly, mere atheism and despair. 

In Christ, as he stands in the light of the New 
Testament Scriptures, God appears in the unity of 
his essence, in the mysterious trinity of persons, 
Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; omnipotent, omnis- 
cient, omnipresent; holy, just, and good; Creator, 
Preserver, Redeemer. Man, conscious of sin and 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 75 

misery, sees it all the more clearly in this revelation. 
But the Father gives the Son; he suffers for us in 
infinite, self-sacrificing love, delivering the divine 
attraction full upon us, expressing the presence and 
love of God to us through human media, arousing 
our dead spiritual consciousness through the chan- 
nel of human sympathies. Thus faith becomes 
easy, and through a human tie, a felt relationship 
to Christ, God draws us. We become conscious of 
his love. A Godward movement in ourselves re- 
sponds to the unmerited mercies thus revealed to 
us. All the while the Holy Spirit, ministered 
through Christ, "helpeth our infirmities." Repent- 
ance becomes possible ; self-renunciation becomes 
possible. The soul affiances itself to Christ, and to 
God in Christ, and thus comes into conscious com- 
munion with God. The creating presence of the 
Holy Spirit is felt. The man is created anew in 
Christ Jesus ; he is born again, and so comes into 
the kingdom of God. God came clown to him, and 
now he has come up to God. And this responsive 
movement is the ultimate one. This is what Christ 
came for — what he suffered for. He is "in us the 
hope of glory." 

This is another revelation of God, a manifestation 
to his people, and not to the world. It is the per- 
sonal sense of his presence and of his love; it is 
Christian experience. " He shall give you another 
Comforter," said our Lord, "that he may abide 
with yon forever." " He that loveth me shall be 
loved of my Father, and I will love him, and will 
manifest myself to him." 



76 God in the New Testament Scriptures. 

This manifestation is God in the Church, of which 
I cannot speak more largely now. 

I conclude with the following propositions: 

1. To man, in his fallen condition, his spiritual 
powers being stupefied, any proper thought of God, 
or just affection toward him, is impossible. 

2. God, showing forth his power in a human form, 
has placed himself so near to us that actual sight, so 
to speak, comes to the aid of faith. 

3. He has so related himself to us in Christ that 
he appeals to our human affections, which are quick 
and strong, and through them attracts us toward 
himself. 

4. Thus approaching us on the accessible side, he 
offers us life in his Son. Only the most desperate 
hardness can resist the approach. 

5. The Atonement harmonizes the holiness of 
God with the pardon of sin, so that to the most 
guilty the "throne of his holiness" is not only ac- 
cessible, but inviting. 

6. In the light of a gracious administration, sin 
and impenitency become exceeding sinful. 

7. In rejecting Christ no hope is left; for the 
Justice that smote even him, when it found him in 
our place, will not spare us when we refuse to hide 
ourselves behind him. 

8. Humanity is highly exalted in becoming the 
habitation of the Son of God. 

9. Through Christ it becomes possible for us to 
reach some just thought of the love of God, and to 
understand that God is Love. 



God in the New Testament Scriptures. 77 

"When on Sinai's top I see 
God descend in majesty, 
To proclaim his holy law, 
All my spirit sinks with awe. 

When, in ecstasy sublime, 
Tabor's glorious height I climb, 
In the too transporting light, 
Darkness rushes o'er my sight. 

When on Calvary I rest, 
God, in flesh made manifest, 
Shines in my Redeemer's face, 
Full of beauty, truth, and grace. 

Here I would forever stay, 
Weep and gaze my soul away : 
Thou art heaven on earth to me, 
Lovely, mournful Calvary. 

Finally, through Christ, God becomes "the God 
of patience and consolation." "Let not your heart 
be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me." 
Faith in Christ takes sin away, and with it all occa- 
sion of fear. "Let not your heart be troubled." 
This is God's voice to us, in Christ. In him all 
troubles are removed, out of him all sorrow reigns; 
for God is, against sin, a consuming fire. 



78 God in the Church, 



(§»i in th* (pnrth. 



SERMON III. 

"If ye love me, keep my commandments: and I will pray 
the Father, and he will give you another Comforter, that he 
may abide with you forever; even the Spirit of truth; whom 
the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither 
knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, 
and shall be in you." John xiv. 15-17. 

I HAVE spoken of « God in the Old Testament 
Scriptures," and of " God in the New Testa- 
ment Scriptures." It remains that I should speak of 
"God in the Church." This is a threefold manifes- 
tation of God. The first is especially a display of 
the magisterial character of God — the dispensation of 
the law; the second is eminently an exhibition of the 
grace of God — the dispensation of the gospel; the 
third is the divine presence — the dispensation of the 
Holy Spirit. But let it not he imagined that in the 
Old Testament there is nothing revealed hut the 
magisterial character of God, nor that in the New 
there is nothing seen hut the grace of God, nor yet 
that the holy presence is confined to times suhse- 



God in the Church. 79 

quent to the ascent of our Lord. On the contrary, 
the divine manifestation in any one dispensation 
contains, or implies, all that is in the others. But 
the dispensation of the law, while it contains all that 
is in the others, is charged with its own especial 
function, preeminently. So of the dispensation of 
the gospel and the dispensation of the Spirit. There 
was the gospel, in its dawn, in the Old Testament 
times, and the holy presence was in the Church 
then; but the chief facts brought to light in that dis- 
pensation were the sovereignty of God and the sin 
of man. There was also the law, recognized and. 
magnified in the ministry of Christ; but the chief 
fact contained in it was Christ bearing the curse of 
the law for man. Nor even in the days of his incar- 
nation were the offices of the Spirit suspended; and 
now, under the especial dispensation of the Holy 
Ghost, his offices contemplate both the law and the 
gospel, and are but the complement of both. 

The method of revelation, as we have seen in the 
former discourses, is not scientific, but historic. In 
a series of most imposing facts and striking symbols 
God makes himself and his relation to man known 
in the Old Testament. In another series of yet di- 
viner facts, in the New Testament, he brings fully 
to light the fact of redemption and the infinite love 
in which it was conceived. But the dispensation of 
the Spirit is not a revelation, properly. It brings to 
light no new fact; it discovers no new principle; it 
reveals no new truth ; nor does it give a larger utter- 
ance to some truth already made half audible in a 
former period. It gives no statement of new truth, 



80 God in the Church. 

nor any larger statement of truth already revealed. 
Revelation is complete in the written Scriptures. 
The dispensation of the Spirit simply evokes into the 
individual consciousness the things that are given in reve- 
lation. It imports into the spiritual nature of man 
the matter given in Scripture; it furnishes the con- 
ditions of germination of the seed of truth in the 
sterile, depraved heart of man, and nourishes it into 
fruition; it consummates the love of Christ and the 
law of God in human life. 

The manifestion of God amongst men is an essen- 
tial condition of faith. This is more fully presented 
in the Sermon on " God in the New Testament 
Scriptures." For this reason, in part, the Son of 
God became incarnate; but the manifestation of 
God in the Incarnation was necessarily limited by 
physical conditions. The presence could not be 
universal, but only local; its diffusion could be ef- 
fected only in the same manner as that of airy other 
fact of history. The terms of its continuance were 
therefore limited; for there was no occasion for its 
perpetuity. A short life-time would serve to supply 
the facts in which the divine made itself apparent 
under human conditions. These facts, given to his- 
tory, and published among all nations, furnish the 
basis of faith. But a saving communion with God 
cannot be established by this remote method of com- 
munication. We must have something more than 
a mere narrative of the incarnate life; we must 
have an abiding presence — a presence always and 
everywhere accessible. Such a presence the Incar- 
nation could not supply, and so the Saviour said to 



God in the Church. 81 

the disciples: "Nevertheless I tell you the truth: It 
is expedient for you that I go away; for if I go not 
away, the Comforter will not come unto you; but if 
I depart, I will send him unto you." This is the 
presence that shall " abide with us forever." It was 
this that was to come in its fullness after the Lord 
had ascended. 

Not, as has been already intimated, that the Spirit 
had not been in the world and with the people of 
God before; indeed, he had been so from the begin- 
ning. He had been communicating the mind of 
God to patriarchs and prophets; he had been com- 
forting the saints — washing them from their iniq- 
uity, cleansing them from their sin, creating in them 
a clean heart; but it was not that universal and 
plenary dispensation of the Spirit to be realized in 
"the days that should come." It was, no doubt, 
realized in consciousness by many saints; but we 
may believe that the sense of his presence was, for 
the most part, vague and undefined. In several 
striking cases it appeared not in consciousness, but 
in objective facts, which were mere symbols of the 
presence. The burning bush, the cloud, the light- 
nings, the raging fire upon Mount Sinai, the pillar 
of cloud by clay and of fire by night, the luminous 
aspect of the face of Moses, the cloud that filled 
the tabernacle, the fire that consumed the sacrifice 
of Elijah, the awful privacy of the holy of holies — 
into which only the high-priest might enter, and 
he but once a year, and then not without blood, 
sprinkling the mercy-seat, which was shadowed by 
the wings of cherubim — the ephod, and the urim 
4* 



82 G-od in the Church. 

and thummim, were all symbols of the unseen, al- 
mighty, all-holy, awful Being, whose presence they 
recognized, and whose name they uttered. 

It may be thought unnecessary — and yet for the 
young, perhaps, it is not so — to guard against the 
deceptive sound of words. The Spirit comes, is sent, 
is present; as if there might be a place where he is 
not present, and to which he must come by a move- 
ment in space. These terms refer not to the rela- 
tion of the Holy Spirit to space, for he fills all 
space; they refer solely to the relation of the Spirit 
to our consciousness. He is sent, he comes, and is 
present to us, when we become conscious of him. 
When he communicates with us, when he agitates 
the soul, when he quickens and renews it, when he 
witnesses of the things of God in it, then he is 
present. To the man whose consciousness is so oc- 
cupied with carnal things that the Spirit's touches 
are not felt, he is absent. Let it not be forgotten, 
then, that these terms express the relation of the 
Holy Ghost not to space, but to our consciousness. 
From his presence in space, indeed, no man can 
hide, either in heaven or in hell, or in the uttermost 
parts of the sea. 

God is, then, ever present with his people by his 
Spirit. This fact has been recognized by the Church 
in all ages; but such is the depravity of the mind, 
as well as the heart, of man that false notions of 
the most precious truths are constantly arising. 
Upon this most vital truth — the presence of the Di- 
vine Comforter — there has been wide-spread and 
deadly misbelief. The most wide-spread and mis- 



God in the Church. 83 

chievous heresy that has appeared in the Church 
on this point is the doctrine that the Holy Ghost is 
present in the Church as an organic body — that, by 
virtue of its corporate character, the Church is the 
depository of the Spirit. The corollary of this 
proposition is that the ministers of religion have a 
certain official authority to dispense the gifts of the 
Spirit, in the ordinances of religion, which, being 
the organs of the Church, constitute the media of 
access to the indwelling Spirit, and of communica- 
tion with him. This is the source of the belief in 
sacramental efficacy; it is this that has given rise 
to the doctrine of baptismal regeneration ; the 
whole system of superstitious ritualism proceeds 
from it; the idea of the supremacy of the Church 
and the infallibility of the pope is the outgrowth, 
of it. 

The inevitable effect in individual life is to pro- 
duce a superstitious veneration for the Church and 
the priest, a false confidence in ordinances and sac- 
raments, and a transfer of the sense of. responsibil- 
ity to the Church. A man must keep on good terms 
with the ghostly officials who carry the keys of the 
treasury of grace; he must attend habitually upon 
the sacraments, which are the channels of salvation. 
With him this is religion. He is the servant of the 
Church, not of God; the master that he follows is 
the Church, not Christ; his communion with the 
Spirit is official, through the Church, not personal 
and immediate; his access to the Spirit is formal, 
not vital. 

Such a man is apt to be a great stickler for mere 



84 God in the Church. 

forms, and careless of the weightier matters of the 
law. He will be at the sacrament Sunday morning, 
and at the beer-garden Sunday afternoon; he will 
do his penances and count his beads with scrupu- 
lous exactness, but at the same time he will take 
the name of the Lord his God in vain ; he will 
omit nothing of the external forms of religion, 
while he will be utterly careless of the witness of 
the Spirit. 

The holy presence is not in the Church as a cor- 
poration, but with the people of God as individuals. 
Those who love Christ and keep his commandments 
are they to whom he will send the Comforter, and 
to whom he says, The Spirit " dwellcth with you, 
and shall be in you." Our Lord says, "I have 
manifested thy name unto the men which thou gavest 
me out of the world." It is to men, and not to cor- 
porations, that the Spirit of God comes. It is with 
the individual that he deals. "What! know ye not 
that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost 
which is in you, which ye have of God, and ye are 
not your own? For ye are bought with a price: 
therefore glorify God in your body, and in your 
spirit, which are God's." It was on individuals that 
the Spirit fell on the day of Pentecost, and in the 
house of Cornelius. " Have ye received the Holy 
Ghost since ye believed?" was the question put by 
the apostle to the disciples whom he found at Eph- 
esus. " The love of God is shed abroad in our hearts 
by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us." "The 
law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made 
me free from the law of sin and death." "But ye 



God in the Church. 85 

are not in the flesh, but in the Spirit, if so be that the 
Spirit of God dwell in you. E~ow if any man have 
not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his." "After 
that ye believed, ye were sealed with that Holy 
Spirit of promise." "If we live in the Spirit, let us 
also walk in the Spirit." " Quench not the Spirit." 
All the Scriptures agree in this. Wherever the Holy 
Spirit is spoken of, it is clear that his presence is 
with men — with individuals — not with institutions. 
He is in the Church as the Church is constituted of 
the men in whom he dwells. The consciousness of 
his presence in the men whose aggregate number 
makes up the Church constitutes his presence in 
the Church. 

But the people of God collected together and en- 
gaged in devout exercises realize the presence of 
God the more by means of that fellowship of saints 
through which the experience of each is diffused, 
and adds to the joy of all; and by means also of 
the greater faith which is secured by the means of 
grace which God has ordained to this end. But 
this augmented sense of the divine presence is still 
an individual experience. The temple in which the 
Spirit dwells is the lowly heart. It is the man, and 
not a corporation, with which God abides. 

But the solemn assemblies of the Church, and the 
celebration of the ordinances in the simplicity of 
faith and love, collecting and concentrating the in- 
dividual experience of the several members, give an 
aggregate expression of the hallowed presence that is 
most imposing and salutary. 

It is not to be inferred that because the Spirit 



86 . God in the Church. 

dwells in persons, and not in institutions, there- 
fore, the institution is of little value, nor that the 
ordinances may be safely neglected. The Spirit 
dwells in us on the condition of faith, and the 
Church in its various functions and observances is 
greatly helpful to our faith, so that the spiritual 
life is quickened, and the divine presence abounds 
greatly through the Church. Yet all comes of the 
quickening of faith. It is not by any official ad- 
ministration of the gifts of the Spirit that a gracious 
result is wrought, but as the followers of Christ, 
coming together, strengthen each other's hands in 
God, and as the means of grace ordained in the 
Church quicken our faith, we come more and more 
into that state of mind and heart in which the Holy 
Spirit makes his abode. The collected utterances 
of his presence in the great congregation heightens 
the individual sense of his power and of his glory, 
and opens the heart by faith more fully to his com- 
ing. God, who knows our nature, has constituted 
the Church for this very end. He has adapted it, 
with all the ordinances of religion committed to it, 
to the development of faith in us. There are but 
few who would maintain a godly life through a 
course of years without these aids. 

We talk about the spirituality of the Church, but 
the spirituality of the Church is, after all, only the 
aggregate of the spirituality of all the members. 
This is heightened by the associations and privileges 
of the Church, but it is in the individual members 
that it is heightened, and through them only it ap- 
pears in the aggregate of the Church. There is a 



God in the Church. 87 

social side of religion, in which we are helpful to 
each other; but at last each one stands for himself 
before God. Religion is a matter strictly personal; 
it is the union of the soul with God, in conscious 
purity and power, through the indwelling and the 
sanctifying power of the Holy Ghost. 

In this manner is " God in the Church." The 
Holy Spirit is in the hearts of believers, and through 
their consciousness he is present, also, in the congre- 
gations of his people and in the ordinances of his 
house. The only condition of his presence is faith, 
and the only expression of it is the spirit of worship 
and obedience. He makes himself known to his 
people, and through them his presence is notified to 
the world. 

What an amazing and glorious fact is this, that 
God is present with men in a real and sensible com- 
munion ! In the midst of life's lowliest cares and 
greatest sufferings, God is with us; in the most op- 
pressive trials and deepest humiliation he comes to 
us, and communes with us, raising us to assured 
connection and kinship with the Infinite. He is 
our Father, and his Spirit dwells in us. 

The Scriptures, especially those of the New Tes- 
tament, are very full upon this great fact, and from 
them we learn many important points, particularly 
the following: 

I. The Holy Ghost is in the Chukch as a wit- 
ness. 

He is called the "Spirit of Truth." As such 
he is a witness; he testifies of the things of God. 
"It is the Spirit that beareth witness, because the 



88 God in the Church. 

Spirit is truth." The Holy Spirit is a witness to his 
people — 

1. Of all truth. "He shall guide you into all 
truth." This he does in two ways. First, as the 
author of revelation. I have said that the dispen- 
sation of the Spirit brings no new disclosures — that 
it is not a revelation. Yet the Spirit is the author 
of all revelation in all times. It was he who in- 
spired the prophets and Moses; he also inspired the 
apostles and evangelists. Yet inspiration, like mira- 
cles, is an incident, merely, of his presence in the 
Church. The chief fact is neither inspiration nor 
miracles. We are constantly liable to be deceived 
by appearances, and to count that which is second- 
ary and subordinate as the chief thing. So the 
apostles themselves, after a brilliant career of cast- 
ing out devils, exulted in this wonderful power; 
but the Lord checked their ignorant triumph. " In 
this rejoice not, that the devils are subject unto you; 
but rather rejoice because your names are written in 
heaven." John the Baptist was the greatest of the 
prophets; but "he that is least in the kingdom of 
heaven is greater than he." To be a Christian is a 
greater thing than to have the spirit of prophecy, 
or the power to cast out devils. The greatest of 
the effects of the Spirit's presence are those which 
are moral. The regeneration of the heart is the 
divinest work. All else is subordinate to this. 
Miracles and inspiration are but means to this end, 
and contemplate it as their object. 

I have said that the divinest work of the Spirit is 
the moral effect on character, not his miraculous 



God in the Church. 89 

gifts. Sometimes, indeed, though rarely, the gifts 
of miracles and of inspiration are present where 
the other is wanting. Balaam was yet a prophet 
while bent upon the most wicked purpose. There 
are some who in the last day will make a merit of 
having cast out devils and done many wonderful 
works in the name of Christ; but he will reject 
them and disown them, on the ground that they are 
"workers of iniquity." " Though I speak with the 
tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, 
I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cym- 
bal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and 
understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and 
though I have all faith, so that I could remove 
mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing." 

A pure heart is the crowning gift of the Spirit. 
It is this which likens men to God — which makes 
them sons of God. He that is least in the king- 
dom of heaven is greater than the greatest of the 
prophets. The slightest measure of saving grace is 
greater than the highest gift of prophecy. Let us 
not regret that the age of miracles is past, since the 
end of all miracles is attained by the least and low- 
liest of the children of God. 

But to the apostles he was a witness of all-saving 
truth, and through them he was a witness of it to 
all the world. "He shall teach you all things, and 
bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I 
have said unto you." "He shall not speak of him- 
self; but whatsoever he shall" hear, that shall he 
speak; and he will show you things to come. He 
shall glorify me; for he shall receive of mine, and 



90 God in the Church. 

shall show it unto yon." This gift of inspiration 
is special, and through it the canon of Scripture 
was provided which is the testimony of this divine 
witness. " The testimony of Jesns is the spirit of 
prophecy." 

The second way in which the Spirit leads its into 
all truth is realized in the experience of all the fol- 
lowers of Christ. He causes the heart to be suscep- 
tible to the truth which he has himself given in rev- 
elation; he opens the ear to the voice of inspiration. 
"The sheep follow him; for they know his voice, 
and a stranger will they not follow." " I am the 
good shepherd, and know my sheep, and am known 
of mine." " My sheep hear my voice, and I know 
them, and they follow me." The Lord opened 
Lydia's heart to receive the word. " Open thou 
mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out 
of thy law." lie gave the law ; he also quickens the 
dead, depraved heart of man to receive it. This di- 
vine quickening produces two effects. 

First, it disposes the heart to faith. The truth of 
the word of God becomes apparent and real to a 
man under its influence. The soul is put into a kind 
of harmony with, sacred things; they become both 
evident and impressive to it. 

Secondly, it quickens the understanding to re- 
ceive the things of God. Under its influence the 
deep things of revelation are understood. "What 
depths appear in the sacred writings, when we are 
filled with the Spirit, which we could never other- 
wise discover! how much we see in familiar texts 
that we never saw before! 



God in the Church. 91 

2. The Holy Spirit is a witness of Jesus. " He shall 
testify of me." " He shall glorify me." 

He bears witness of the coming and of the divine 
mission of Christ in the inspiration of the apostles, 
and, by their inspired testimony, to all the nations 
of the earth. how this testimony commands the 
ears of men ! Inspiration, in both the Old and New 
Testaments, is the voice of God bearing witness to 
the power and coming of his Son. Men hear the 
voice; no other voice penetrates them as this does; 
none other awes them so. They stop their ears; yet 
still its vibrations reach the inner depths of their 
being. They may hate it; but the very intensity of 
their hatred is in proof of the power it exerts over 
them. Why cannot men be just simply indifferent 
toward the Bible? 

He also bears witness of Jesus in the hearts of 
men, as we have already seen, in respect to all di- 
vine truth. He opens the heart of the lowly, and 
enthrones the Son of God in its faith; he enlightens 
the eyes of the truly penitent to see him " the chiefest 
among ten thousand," and " altogether lovely." 

3. The Holy Ghost is a loitncss to the children of God 
that they are accepted in the Beloved. "For ye have 
not received the spirit of bondage again to fear; but 
ye have received the Spirit of adoption, whereby we 
cry, Abba, Father. The Spirit itself beareth witness 
with our spirit, that we are the children of God." 
"Because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit 
of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father." 
"Hereby we know that he abideth in us, by the 
Spirit which he hath given us." " Hereby know we 



92 God in the Church. 

that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he hath 
given us of his Spirit." It is the Holy Spirit that 
makes articulate the voice of the Father's love in 
the hearts of his children on earth. 

"Jesus Christ, the faithful and true Witness," ut- 
ters his testimony among men by the " Comforter, 
which is the Holy Ghost," whom the Father has 
sent in his name. 

Upon the testimony of this divine witness we rest 
our case; we hang our hopes of eternity here; we 
put every thing at stake upon it without fear — yea, 
with joy; we adventure upon eternal destinies on 
this foundation. The voice is God's; we follow it. 
along the edge of the abyss and in the thick dark- 
ness, fearing no evil. He is the Spirit of Truth — 
truth is his, faith is ours. His truth is the rock on 
which our faith rests; it reposes therewith an inef- 
fable sense of security. On this rock will we re- 
pose, and see the universe go to pieces without a 
tremor. 

The testimony fills the hearts of believers with joy 
in the assurance of faith; the unbelieving it leaves 
without excuse; they discredit the voice of God; 
they harden themselves against his word; they 
make him a liar, and his word is not in them. If 
he had not spoken to them, they had not had sin; 
but his enlightening presence leaves them no cloak 
for their sin. They " quench the Spirit." They " do 
always resist the Holy Ghost;" as their fathers did, 
so do they. 

"Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the 
word of God." The first condition of faith is that 



God in the Church. 93 

the "word of God" — the testimony of the Spirit of 
inspiration — should come to the ear. After that, 
faith depends upon moral, much more than upon in- 
tellectual, conditions. More or less learning, greater 
or less advantages of investigation and critical anal- 
ysis, will not decide the question. If the man is 
perfectly sincere with himself and God, he will he a 
believer; he will credit the heavenly witness; be will 
honor the divine testimony. Whether he be edu- 
cated or illiterate, with the polish of a gentleman or 
the coarseness of the boor — whether he be endowed 
with brilliant genius, or born within one degree of 
idiocy — the question of faith with him will depend 
not upon the character of the evidence, but upon 
his own subjective condition. The objective condi- 
tions of faith God himself has provided, and they 
are the best. The question now is whether he will 
"receive the love of the truth," or "have pleasure 
in unrighteousness." His pleasure in unrighteous- 
ness may be very subtle; it may be the farthest re- 
moved from coarse and brutal vices; it may be the 
most volatile spiritual wickedness; it may be pride 
of intellect; no matter what it may be — if it shall 
destroy that simplicity which receives "the love of 
the truth," it is a condition utterly destructive of 
faith. When a man loves any unrighteousness, it 
involves the love of the lie in which it consists; for 
all unrighteousness is the product of some falsehood. 
" How T can ye believe which receive honor one of 
another, and seek not the honor that cometh from 
God only?" 

The written word and the living Church, in whose 



94 God in the Church, 

members is the witnessing Spirit, bring the truth 
into a relation to the minds and the hearts of the 
wicked that reduces it to a mere question of voli- 
tion whether they hear or forbear. Unbelief is 
simply perverse; it is the product of a hard heart; 
it comes of selfishness and enmity to God; it is the 
expression of the carnal mind; it is sin against the 
Holy Ghost, who is the witness; it makes him a 
liar. Even men recognize the fact that in their 
word rests their honor. If you make a man a liar, 
his character is assailed at the most vital point; he 
is dishonored, degraded. So men dishonor the 
Spirit of God when they make him a false witness. 
This is what unbelief does; it i-s the most dishon- 
oring to God of all sin. Furthermore, that which 
comes to us upon the averment of the Spirit is the 
standard of moral right. Unbelief, therefore, repu- 
diates the only authoritative promulgation of the 
law of God; it sweeps away all the divine sanctions 
of virtue. It is, therefore, the sin which is compre- 
hensive of all sin. 

Let men beware how they trifle with the " Spirit 
of Truth." In doing so they separate themselves 
from God; they repudiate him in the only means 
by which he admits man to communion with him. 
The penalty of such trifling is to be given over to 
the dominion of the lie they love, that they may be 
damned. See those fearful words of the apostle, in 
2 Thess. ii. 8-12. 

II. The Holy Ghost is in the Church as the re- 
prover OF THE WORLD. 

"Nevertheless I tell you the truth: It is expe- 



God in the Church. 95 

client for you that I go away: for if I go not away, 
the Comforter will not come unto you; but if I de- 
part, I will send him unto you. And when he is 
come, he will reprove the world of sin, and of right- 
eousness, and of judgment: of sin, because they be- 
lieve not on me; of righteousness, because I go to 
my Father and ye see me no more; of judgment, 
because the prince of this world is judged." 

He does not dwell with the world, but he does re- 
prove it. His dwelling is with his people, and by 
his presence in the Church he is the reprover of the 
ungodly. His monitions reach all; his reproofs fall 
on the dullest ears and the most indurated hearts. 

1. The world is reproved by the holy living of the 
Church. The self-denial, the truth, the integrity, 
the purity, the unselfishness, and the cross-bearing 
of the people of God, are a standing reproof to the 
wicked. A higher life is brought into contrast 
with their low, carnal aims. The life of God ap- 
pears before their eyes to rebuke them. 

The force of this rebuke is in the fullness of the 
Spirit's presence in the Church. Beyond question, 
there are some Churches from which he has almost 
been grieved away. His offices are not performed; 
his sanctifying power does not appear in the char- 
acter of the members; they have ceased to be "a 
peculiar people;" they are not distinguished in 
spirit or manners from the common run of men; 
the men are as mercenary, the women as vain; they 
resort to questionable practices in the acquisition of 
money, and then clutch and hoard it as eagerly as 
the most wicked, or spend it in carnal pleasures 



96 God in the Church. 

with as little thought of God as any man of the 
world ; they are as eager as the most eager in the 
unseemly contest for lucre, and as vain as the vain- 
est in a frivolous, fashionable display; women pro- 
fessing godliness go home from Church, not to 
meditate upon the holy lesson of the day, not to 
seek a closer union with God and a more perfect 
assimilation to his character, but to indulge in silly, 
perhaps even envious, criticism of the outre dress of 
a neighbor in the next pew. As the stewards pass 
down the aisle with the baskets, some in the very 
congregation are reminded of their sharp practices 
in trade. When the world sees a low state of con- 
science in the Church, it does not feel reproved. 

I know, indeed, that the most upright men, and 
more especially if they be avowed Christians, will 
be unjustly accused and criticised. But, alas! there 
are some in the Church who do business in a way to 
shake the confidence of men of the world. Others 
there are who are "lovers of pleasure more than 
lovers of God." The most frivolous and fashiona- 
ble are not more fond of dress or of pleasure than 
they. Even the form of godliness they maintain 
but very imperfectly — of the power they know noth- 
ing; there is no tone of piety in their conversa- 
tion ; God is not honored in their lives ; money 
they spend freely on their poor bodies that will 
soon be dead — but by what painful methods the lit- 
tle that is got out of them for the cause of God is 
obtained! They will spend more on butterfly 
plumage for one party than for the support of the 
gospel for a whole year, with this farther difference, 



God in the Church. 97 

also, that that which goes to the last of the eye goes 
freely, cheerfully, and that which goes to honor God 
is parted with under a sort of protest, as if it were 
a great hardship. 

In many places the Church "is yet carnal," so 
much so as to render the reproofs of the Spirit 
through his people almost inarticulate ; yet there 
is still the power of God among the Churches, and 
there are many Churches whose candlestick has 
not been removed — they still shed light, reproving 
light, upon all the sin that is around them. Every 
sinner in Christendom, after making all allowance 
for the carnality that is in the Church, knows men 
whose piety he cannot question, and whose godly 
life he constantly feels to be a reproof. He is con- 
vinced of sin; the contrast of himself with a true 
follower of God is painful ; he sees that there is 
something higher, something nobler, to live for than 
money or pleasure; there is an object of existence, 
holy, immortal, and divine; God does dwell among 
men; he has chosen his part with the gaudy ephem- 
era of the day, while his godly neighbor has at- 
tained to an immortal life. The power of this re- 
proof is great, and many are brought to repentance 
by it. 

2. The world is reproved by the faith of the Church 
— that faith which is of the operation of God; for 
all the holv living and all the true faith in the Church 
are the product of the Spirit. 

The objects of faith are the unseen things. There 
is a world we do not see; it is the world of spirits; 
it is far more real than this outer material structure; 
5 



98 God in the Church. 

this will vanish away, that abides. What folly to 
live for the things that perish, and neglect those 
that will abide forever! The faith that keeps the 
unseen in view, that brings God within the range 
of vision — the faith which lifts the soul into the 
region of celestial light, and into the brotherhood 
of the immortals — is at the opposite pole of being 
from the life that just eats, and drinks, and wears 
clothes, and — dies. 

3. The world is reproved by the living ministry. 
The power of the ministry is the unction of the 
Holy One. The men who are truly called of God 
to preach the gospel, and are in all things obedient 
to the heavenly vision, preach the gospel "in dem- 
onstration of the Spirit, and of power." A divine 
energy, which is nothing else than the power of 
God — the very power " that raised Jesus from the 
dead" — goes with the word dispensed by them; it 
cleaves joints and marrow, soul and spirit, and is a 
discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart. 
The man who has the Spirit himself preaches the 
word with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven. 
Then the gospel becomes the "power of God unto 
salvation." 

It lays bare the pollutions of the heart to itself. 
It shows to the wicked the sinfulness of sin, and 
causes them to see the plague of their own hearts. 
It reveals to the proud and thoughtless the fact 
that they are "poor, and miserable, and blind, and 
naked;" it shows them the horrors of eternal 
night; it gives them glimpses of the undying 
worm, and of the fire that is not quenched — at the 



God in the Church 99 

same moment it calls them to look upward, and 
sets the gates of the city of God ajar before them; 
it sends echoes of celestial music to their ears, and 
flashes of uncreated light to their eyes. 

Without the ministry of the Spirit, the ministry 
of the word is powerless. From this it has all its 
awakening potency, its reproving majesty; from 
this it has all its authority over the conscience; 
from this it has the lio-ht in which sin becomes so 
odious and guilt so horrible. "Lo, I am with you 
alway, even unto the end of the world." Christ is 
with his ministers, as we have already seen, not in 
his bodily presence, but in his Spirit. 

The word of Christ is true, and he will make it 
good to the end of time; he is with his servants 
still. The pulpit has not lost its power. The word 
of God sounds out from the living voice of many 
thousands of faithful men, with the majesty of the 
Holy Ghost, to-day; it touches the conscience of 
the sinner with electric power, as of old; it brings 
him face to face with God. 

The chief agency ordained of God in the Church, 
for the salvation of men, is the living ministry. In 
it, more than in any other organ of his utterance, the 
Spirit still speaks to men, and reproves sin. Through 
it he is reproving the world still, as in past ages, and 
will continue to do so till the end of time. The 
voice of the preacher will mingle with the clangor 
of the trumpet that shall awake the dead and an- 
nounce the second coming of the Son of God. 

4. The world is reproved by immediate enlighten- 
ment of the Spirit. Not only through the media just 



100 God in the Church. 

now enumerated, but by direct touches of his pres- 
ence, the Holy Ghost convinces the sinner of sin. 
He is not confined to any class of means, nor to 
means at all; he works as he will, w T ith means and 
without. He does not disregard the laws of our 
being; but he has direct access to the spirit of man, 
and, by immediate communication, arouses the con- 
science and renders the soul capable of a God ward 
movement. He lays a divine attraction upon the 
sensibilities of the sinner, causing the heart to vi- 
brate, even if it will not yield. The Spirit " strives " 
with man; he strives with the sinner, and never, 
until the holy presence is outraged beyond forbear- 
ance, does a man achieve his own damnation. 

"He reproves the world of sin, and of righteous- 
ness, and of judgment." 

1. He reproves the world of sin. 

He sets sin in the light. "Men love darkness 
rather than light, because their deeds are evil." It 
is in the nature of pollution and guilt to seek con- 
cealment; darkness is congenial to them; they can- 
not bear exposure; but the very slielter sin finds in 
concealment is the sinner's greatest danger. The 
false peace of concealment lures him to destruction; 
it soothes him into fatal slumber. The hand that 
drags him into the light is doing him the kindest 
offices; his deeds must be reproved until he aban- 
dons them. The liar, the thief, the murderer, the 
adulterer, who succeeds in covering up his crime, 
goes on in impenitency nntil he falls into the pains 
of eternal death. Detection, though the exposure 
might be worse than death, would furnish incentives 



God in the Church. 101 

to repentance; and the sinner whose crimes — at 
least, those of the grosser sort — have not ripened 
into the overt act, but are in the heart, must be 
brought out in a strong light by the Spirit of Truth, 
in order to a true repentance. 

Not only the fact of sin, but the turpitude of it, is 
brought out into the light. The light causes men 
to see how base a thing sin is. It is the cause of all 
the evils that are in earth and hell; it is the soul's 
dishonor; it is violation of every obligation we are 
under to the Creator; the eternal torments of the 
lost furnish the only adequate expression of its guilt. 
All this comes into a clear light under the reproof of 
the Spirit; he shows men the horrible meaning of 
the w r ord sin. 

" Of sia,' because they believe not on me" We have 
already seen that unbelief is the sin which is com- 
prehensive of all sin. The glory of God is not so 
malignantly assailed in any other way as in discred- 
iting the holy word of the Divine Witness, and in 
rejecting the Son of God. Of this sin they are re- 
proved. If under this reproof men do not die of 
shame and remorse, it is because their hearts are like 
the nether millstone; they are incapable of shame 
before God, or the sorrows of death would encompass 
them, the pains of hell would take hold upon them. 

2. He reproves the world of righteousness. 

He shows men the " beauty of holiness." By 
nature the heart is incapable of any sense of the 
beauties of holiness. Only the pure in heart can 
see God; only the spiritually-minded can perceive 
divine loveliness. It is the vision of this that en- 



102 God in the Church. 

raptures angels; but man, dead in sin, is stone- 
blind to all holy things till the touch of a creative 
finger clarities his vision, and enables him to per- 
ceive a beauty and a glory that are not in outward 
things. 

"Of righteousness, because I go to my Father, and 
ye see me no mover The Lord Jesus was the perfect 
Exemplar of the law while he was on earth; he was 
the incarnate holiness. He brought a perfect right- 
eousness into man's view. His life was the only in- 
stance of perfect purity that ever appeared among 
men; but now he was going to his Father; he was 
about to disappear from the sight of men. "Ye 
shall see me no more." While he was with men — 
at least, within the range of his personal intercourse 
— his holy presence, in contrast with their selfish- 
ness and lust, "reproved them of righteousness;" it 
showed them what righteousness was in human life; 
but now that they should see him no more, he would 
give them his Holy Spirit, to set righteousness per- 
petually before them. He admonishes them that a 
holy character is the consummation of our destiny; 
that in it is given the sum of human blessedness, 
and that the absence of it is the sign and forerunner 
of eternal woe. 

3. He reproves the world of judgment. 

"So then everyone of us shall give account of 
himself to God." It is one of the offices of the 
Spirit to keep this great fact alive in the hearts 
of men. We must account to God for all we do. 
Every secret thing shall be brought into judgment; 
that which has been spoken in the ear in closets 



God in the Church. 103 

shall be proclaimed on house-tops; the stealthy 
vices that cover themselves with the blanket of 
night shall be laid bare at last. The hypocrite will 
be stripped; his hollow professions will avail him 
nothing then; he will stand detected in all his infa- 
mies; he will stand before God; account will be 
made of all his deeds; his crimes will be publicly 
ascertained, and the penalty assessed. Judgment 
will be executed upon him — the judgment of eter- 
nal fire. It is needful that the sense of this be not 
wanting among men. The Holy Spirit arrays our 
sins before us, as in the sight of God, and brings 
the judgment-seat into solemn revelation ; he causes 
us to feel that "it is a fearful thing to fall into the 
hands of the living God." Men may harden them- 
selves against the "terrors of the Lord;" but the 
ever-blessed Spirit still awakens salutary fear; he 
keeps the thought of judgment in the most obsti- 
nate mind. 

"Of judgment, because the jmnce of this world, is 
judged" 

Ever since the successful issue of the satanic en- 
terprise in Eden, the devil has had great power in 
the earth. He has great ascendency over the affairs 
of men; he is the spirit that "worketh in the chil- 
dren of disobedience;" he disposes of kingdoms; 
he has even acquired a dreadful power in the mate- 
rial forces of the world; he is "the prince of the 
power of the air." The footing he has gained in 
the world is terrific. 

But he is now confronted by his almighty Antag- 
onist, the Son of God; his dreadful domination is 



104 God in the Church. 

checked. "Prince of this world," as he is, he is 
judged. The consequences of his malignant as- 
sault upon the beneficent government of God he 
cannot escape; the horrible guilt and infamy of it 
are made to recoil upon him; he is judged, he is 
condemned, and with him all his followers. He is 
the father of lies, the author of sin, and the un- 
godly are his children. "Ye are of your father the 
devil, and his works ye do." Those who follow him 
must be judged with him. When he is judged, they 
must be condemned with him. They join themselves 
to him, and must accept his doom. The faithful Wit- 
ness suffers them not to go on without warning. He 
still admonishes them to the last. He shows them 
the diabolical paternity of sin, and awakens a guilty 
sense of the shame and ruin that must ensue from 
their complicity with the first enemy of God. They 
sin with him, they must die with him. 

These reproofs of the Spirit give a foretaste of 
doom. But their purpose is beneficent. They 
are not designed to torment men before the time, 
but to "lead them to repentance." These preinti- 
mations of the remorse and anguish of a lost soul 
are spurs to the conscience. God designs to bring 
us back to himself. He gave even "that woman 
Jezebel" "space to repent." He "is not willing 
that any should perish;" on the contrary, he calls 
"all men to repent," and to this end fills them with 
apprehensions of coming "judgment." To this end 
he opens their eyes at once to the enormity of sin 
and to the beauty of holiness. If Felix and Agrippa 
are not saved, they are left without excuse. Every 



God in the Church. 105 

thing is done to save them short of offering vio- 
lence to their personal freedom. Felix trembles and 
postpones, Agrippa is almost persuaded. 

III. The Holy Ghost is in the Church as the 

SANCTIFIER OF THEM THAT BELIEVE. 

"By nature we were children of wrath, even as 
others." But this is a perverted nature. It is not 
nature as it was at first constituted. It is, as we 
may say, an unnatural nature. Holy Scripture 
gives us the historical explanation of this inverted 
order. There was a time when man's nature was 
pure, when it developed in harmony with the will 
of God. Man's nature was then in unison with the 
universal nature, and with the nature of God. But 
an eccentric and sinister movement of the human 
will, soon after man's creation, destroyed his adjust- 
ment to the Creator, and, by consequence, the ad- 
justment of his faculties with respect to his own 
nature. 

In the true order, which is the primary nature, 
the spirit is absolute over the flesh, being itself in 
union with God. God delivers his will upon the 
spirit of man, which, being voluntarily recipient of 
the divine will, controls all the appetites and mo- 
tions of the flesh by it. God is supreme over all, 
and the spirit of man is supreme over his own body 
and over the world. Thus were all things, through 
the operation of the human will, kept in conformity 
to the will and nature of God. The human will 
was the pivot on which the relation of man and of 
the world to God hinged; for not only man's own 
relations to God depended on his volition, but he, 
5* 



106 God in the Church. 

being at the head of affairs on earth, carried the 
world along with his own destinies. But the will 
of man, at an early day, took a hostile attitude to- 
ward God. This audacious attitude was assumed 
under the temptation of the devil, and the means 
of temptation was found in the relation of man's 
sensuous nature to the external world. "And when 
the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and 
that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be de- 
sired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, 
and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with 
her, and he did eat.'' 

The "tree was good for food" and "pleasant to the 
eyes." It was in the relation of the sensuous nature 
to the external world that the means of temptation 
was found. The gratification of the eye and the 
palate displaced the supremacy of God. The tr°e 
was also "to be desired to make one wise." Pride 
of intellect is in a relation of affinity to the sensu- 
ous nature closer than one would, at first blush, sup- 
pose. Self-consciousness has its seat in the duplex 
nature of man — the soul and body united. When 
this asserts itself against God, pride and sensuality, 
the concentrated essence of self-assertion, will give 
law to the man; the world and the flesh will take 
the place of God. In this case the divine order is 
subverted ; the spirit, alienated from God, is de- 
based to the level of the flesh, and even below it; 
it becomes the seat of lustful propensities and bru- 
tal passions; its own desires are permeated by the 
steaming impurities of a prurient animal nature; 
it takes tone and character from its relations to the 



God in the Church. 107 

flesh, and not from its relations to God ; its pro- 
pensities become "earthly, sensual, devilish;" from 
the pure spiritual nature of God it has become al- 
together alienated. W hat a fall is this ! 

The solemn and awful fact is that man is totally 
depraved. 

Some persons, I know, finding in man's nature 
that which responds to the ideas of virtue and 
honor, deny the total depravity of his nature; but, 
with respect to the holy nature of God and the 
divine spirituality of the law, he is totally fallen. 
So absolutely and entirely is man gone away from 
God that, of himself, he is incapable of any pure 
desires toward his Maker. He loves the world and 
the things that are in the world. Even his love of 
virtue and honor is as he sees some worldly advan- 
tage in them. When he does right, it is from some 
motive that arises out of his relations to the world, 
not from any motive arising out of his relations to 
God. Right-doing is, in his case, accidental. The 
accident, that right-doing is coincident with the 
best worldly policy, explains his virtue so far as it 
goes. I use the word accident not in its popular, 
but in its logical, import. The fact that God has 
prescribed this or that is not at all the motive of 
his doing it. In regulating his conduct, God is not 
in all his thoughts. With respect to God and his 
law, man is totally depraved; he is under the do- 
minion of the world and the flesh; he is carnally- 
minded. The very spirit has taken the taint of the 
flesh; it is in the attitude toward the world and 
the flesh in which it ought to stand toward God. 



108 God in the Church. 

Could there be a more guilty or degrading perver- 
sion of his essential nature? 

"The carnal mind is enmity against God; for it 
is not subject to the law of God; neither indeed can 
be." In the carnal condition of the mind the fact 
of enmity to God consists. The world is deified, 
and God is dishonored. When will vain man cease 
from metaphysical sophistries that flatter him with 
a conceit of virtue in himself, while he is "sold un- 
der sin? " "When will he come to see that he is ruled 
by the god of this world, and that the imaginations 
of the thoughts of his heart are only evil continu- 
ally? When will the stupid heart understand that 
it is the home of nnclean thoughts? Truly, of our- 
selves are we incapable of one thought that will 
bear the inspection of God. Our very virtues spring 
from motives that displace God from his throne; 
our very moralities are a mixture of pride and pol- 
icy. In the fallen condition of man God is not his 
God. The whole course of thought and life in his 
case is a repudiation of God — a practical protest 
against his sovereignty. The nature that is out of 
adjustment with God, and incapable of any effectual 
movement, arising out of itself, toward that adjust- 
ment, is depraved — totally depraved. 

"If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: 
old things are passed away; behold, all things are 
become new." In Christ, through his atonement 
and intercession, we are brought into a new rela- 
tion to God and his law. The Atonement is the 
basis of a new opportunity for man. By means of 
it repentance and faith are made possible. On the 



God in the Church. 109 

ground of the Atonement sin is pardoned — the par- 
don being conditioned on faith. For salvation is 
not unconditional; if it were, violence would be 
done to our freedom. In the violation of our free- 
dom only a mechanical eifect could be reached, and 
that would not be the restoration of the soul to God 
in the freedom of faith. It would not be salvation. 

Salvation is conditional, but man, in his depravity, 
is' fallen so low as to be incapable of a condition. 
The will itself is paralyzed, as to any Godward 
movement, and must be quickened into power be- 
fore it is capable of choice with respect to the things 
of God. So deep and deadly is the fall. There 
must be prevenient grace that we may have a good 
will, and grace helping when we have the will. 

The work of Christ, then, can be consummated 
only through the creative energy of the Holy Ghost. 
Christ came to restore the lost soul to God. He 
came into the world and offered himself an atoning 
sacrifice for our sins, and to display the love of God 
before the eyes of men. Being risen from the dead, 
he ascended the throne of mediation out of our sight. 
But he has sent his Spirit to consummate the work. 

Salvation is the restoration of the lost nature of 
man to God. It is not a merely formal and official 
process, but personal, subjective, real. It is not the 
mere imputation of righteousness, but the imparta- 
tion of it — the actual cleansing of the soul from sin. 
It is not the mere pardon of sin, but the regenera- 
tion of our nature. It is at once the remission of 
guilt and the restoration of the soul to God in ac- 
tual, conscious purity and peace. It is the victory 



110 God in the Church. 

that overcometh the world, the disenthrallment of 
the soul from the dominion of the flesh, and its new 
enfranchisement in God. 

In the Incarnation the divine came manifestly 
into the human; but in this movement there was 
nothing ultimate. The expression of the divine 
under human conditions was only a first movement; 
it was not a result; it contemplated something be- 
yond. In itself, this divine movement is incom- 
plete. The complement of it is the new birth of 
men. God came into expression in humanity that 
humanity might come consciously into God. The 
incarnation of the Son of God has its counterpart 
and object in the new birth of souls in God. Through 
the Incarnation the divine attraction is laid upon 
man that he may be raised to God; but the effect 
of the work of Christ appears in our consciousness 
only through the agency of the Holy Ghost. We 
required not only a Redeemer, but a Sanctifier; Ave 
needed not only the atoning sacrifice, but the 
quickening Spirit. E"ot only must the love of God 
be displayed, but blind eyes must be opened to per- 
ceive it; not only must legal obstructions be removed 
out of the way of our restoration to God, but personal 
depravity, also. There must be regeneration as well 
as pardon, the ucav birth as well as remission. 

The greatest fact that ever took place on the earth 
was God coming to man in the incarnation of the 
Son. Second only to that is man coming to God, 
through the work of the Holy Ghost, in the new 
birth. The ucav birth of a soul in God! Man emerg- 
ing out of the littlenesses and the filth of a carnal 



God in the Church. Ill 

condition into the dignity, the liberty, the holiness 
of the sods of God! Bursting open the prison- 
doors of the world and the flesh, the spirit finds 
itself invested with the freedom of the universe, 
and finds the sweep of its liberties commensurate 
with omnipresence! 

Why is the work of grace in Christian experience 
denominated a birth? Our Lord said, "Except a 
man be born of water, and of the Spirit, he cannot 
enter into the kingdom of God." Why this meta- 
phor of a birth to express the fact of a man's en- 
trance into the kingdom of God? We shall not 
have far to go for the reason. Every birth is the 
beginning of a new life. The restoration of the soul 
to God is nothing short of this. There is a new life. 
It is the divine life — the life of God in the soul. 

" God is love." This is the essence of his moral 
nature. The new birth is "the love of God shed 
abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is 
given unto us." 80 immediate, so vital, is the union 
of God's people with him. 

The power by which this change from a carnal to 
a spiritual state, from the love of the world to the 
love of God, is effected is the Holy Ghost. The 
agency of the Spirit in this work is immediate. It 
is true, indeed, that much is accomplished by him 
through means. Men are enlightened through the 
means of the ivord, written or spoken. Attention 
is aroused by exhortations, providential occurrences, 
warnings, and many other means. Motives are ap- 
pealed to in a thousand different ways, to arouse 
men to repentance, and to awaken concern. All 



112 God in the Church. 

these means are made efficient by the Spirit, in his 
direct agency; and the actual transformation of 
character — the new creation — is the immediate work 
of God. "Create in me a clean heart, God, and 
renew a right spirit within me." It is an exertion 
of divine power to he prayed for, not just to he 
sought through certain prescribed media; it is the 
voluntary exertion of immediate power upon the 
soul by the Holy Spirit. 

This power is not a mechanical force; it is not 
exerted in a way to do violence to our freedom; it is 
never wrought but in concurrence with our own 
will. None are born again until they " turn to God." 
The heart opens itself to God, and invites the Spirit 
of holiness to come in ; but the heart opening itself 
to God is the result of a previous work of the 
Spirit; for there is a wonderful concurrence of 
divine grace and human will in the entire process 
of repentance. Indeed, from the dawn to the con- 
summation of the work of salvation, the Spirit's 
power on one side is responded to by a consenting 
will on the other. One stage of the advance pre- 
pares the heart and leads it to anticipate in prayer 
the next. Prayer is of the essence of repentance — 
prayer for a clean heart. "Wash me thoroughly 
from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin." 
Though the work is wrought in us by the Spirit 
of God, yet no violence is done to our essential 
nature. Only its depravities are corrected, its im- 
purities washed away; it is restored to its primal 
integrity; it is brought into the brotherhood of the 
holv. 



God in the Church. 113 



Let those who imagine that the work of the 
Spirit is realized only through the medium of the 
word and ordinances consider the plain words of 
our Lord: "If ye, then, being evil, know how to 
give good gifts unto your children, how much more 
shall yonr Heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to 
them that ask him?" Those who "believe on his 
name" are " born not of blood, nor of the will of the 
flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God." "That 
which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is 
born of the Spirit is spirit." "But ye are not in the 
flesh, but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God 
dwell in you." " But if the Spirit of him that raised 
up Jesus from the dead dwell in you, he that raised 
up Christ from the dead shall also quicken your 
mortal bodies by his Spirit that dwelleth in you." 
"Put on the new man, which after God is created in 
righteousness and true holiness." " The power that 
worketh in us" is the same power by which God 
" raised up Jesus from the dead." 

The life that is in the believer is wrought in him 
by the power of God. This is a mystery, you say. 
Yea, doubtless, a heavenly mystery. You repeat 
Nicodemus's question, "How can these things be?" 
The carnal heart has been ever asking that question 
over and over. You profess that you can under- 
stand how, if a man does his duty, God will receive 
him, but that you cannot understand the new birth. 
I know it; I know it well. You are ready to go 
about to establish your own righteousness; but to 
the righteousness of God you are not ready to sub- 
mit. Your poor, proud heart maintains its pitiful 



114 God in the Church. 

rebellion against God and his methods; hut you are 
depraved; your heart is corrupt, and unless you are 
washed, cleansed, sanctified, by the " renewing of 
the Holy Ghost, which he shed on us abundantly 
through Jesus Christ our Saviour," you are lost. 
You can never "see God" until you are made "pure 
in heart," and the heart can be changed only by the 
God who made it. 

But what a wonder is this, that a nature so gross 
and polluted should be at last brought to the heights 
of his holiness, and introduced, without shame, into 
heaven itself ! " Such wonders God hath wrought." 
Jesus our Lord will present the Church, without 
"spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing," " faultless be- 
fore the presence of his glory, with exceeding joy." 
This is his work, and it is marvelous in our eyes; 
this is the work that is being wrought in the earth 
now. The Paraclete is in the Church. Human 
souls even now on earth, washed by him in the 
blood of the Lamb, show forth his praises by a con- 
versation that is in heaven. There is much imper- 
fection in the Church; there are hypocrites, here 
and there ; the world, ever and anon, comes in like 
a flood; yet is he here — the Spirit, the blessed Com- 
forter — antagonizing the powers of darkness, and 
bringing in the light of God. He is purging the 
Church; and, amid all the corruptions of the times, 
souls are passing through the refining fires of his 
love, and becoming "meet to be partakers of the 
inheritance of the saints in light." Perpetually 
they are witnessing among men his power to kill 
and to make alive. With the sustained emphasis 



God in the Church. 115 

of a holy life, thousands on earth are showing forth 
the praises of him who has called them from dark- 
ness into his marvelous light, and from the power 
of Satan to serve the living God. Perpetually, from 
his new creation, they are ascending the starry path- 
way, and entering in through the gates into the city. 
There they are, the saved of the Lord, clustering 
around the King in his beauty, in the land of light, 
and chanting evermore, "Unto him that loved us, 
and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and 
hath made us kings and priests unto God and his 
Father; to him be glory and dominion forever and 
ever. Amen." This is the work of Christ, effectu- 
ated by the presence and power of the Holy Ghost 
in the Church. He is the sanctifier; he is with 
men even now. Let us beware lest we grieve the 
Holy Spirit ; if once he abandon us, our portion is 
death. 

Thus is fulfilled the prophecy, "He shall sit as a 
refiner's fire, and as a purifier of silver." All dross 
and base metals he separates from the nature of his 
people, leaving there only the pure silver. Thus, 
also, is fulfilled the declaration of the last and great- 
est of all the prophets, " He shall baptize you with 
the Holy Ghost, and "with fire." To be pure in heart 
is the true glory of intelligent life. To this God 
raises his people through the sanctifying power of 
the Holy Ghost; he fulfills the good pleasure of his 
goodness in us, and the work of faith with power. 
It is the almighty Spirit who has the work in hand; 
the work is divine. The effect is not partial, except 
as infinite beneficence may be resisted by the per- 



116 God in the Church, 

verse subject of its saving agencies. If we open 
ourselves fully to God, lie cuts the work short in 
righteousness, so that his will is done by us on earth 
as it is done in heaven; and human character, even 
before death, becomes refulgent with celestial light. 
"If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we 
have fellowship one with another, and the blood of- 
Jesus Christ his Son clean seth us from all sin." 
This is our "high calling." To this we aspire in 
Christ Jesus our Lord. The infusion of his right- 
eousness by the coming of his Spirit is the assured 
effect of faith in his name. His people walk with 
him in white, even here, keeping their garments 
unspotted from the world. He is in the Church, a 
sanctifying presence. 

IV. The Holy Ghost is in the Church as the 
Comforter of his people. 

"Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in 
God, believe also in me." " Let not your heart be 
troubled, neither let it be afraid." "Peace I leave 
with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the 
world giveth, give I unto you." "These things I 
have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have 
peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation, but 
be of good cheer: I have overcome the world." 

With words such as these did our Lord soothe 
and comfort his disciples in the dark hour w T hen he 
was about to be parted from them. The great sor- 
row was coming upon him. It was now after night- 
fall, and on the morrow he would be crucified. The 
shadow of the cross was already upon his soul; he 
had told the disciples that he would soon be parted 



God in the Church. 117 

from them, and that they should see him no more; 
he had heen the light of their life; his presence had 
been their joy; he had kindled strange hopes in 
them; to be abandoned by him now was more than 
they could bear; their hopes were blighted; how 
cold, how insipid, how blank the world would be 
now without him! their hearts were heavy; the 
sorrowful tone of his own spirit added to their 
grief; they needed a comforter, and he, under a 
sorrow ten thousand-fold greater than theirs, in 
self- forgetting love, turned to them and poured di- 
vine consolation upon their souls; he spoke words 
of peace, he assured them of his love, he promised 
the Comforter, who should come when he had as- 
cended; and even now he breathed on them, and 
said, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost." 

One, and a principal, office of the Holy Spirit in 
the Church is that of the Comforter. " Comfort ye, 
comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak ye 
comfortably to Jerusalem." God takes pleasure 
in the happiness of those who serve him. It is his 
pleasure that they shall "find rest to their souls." 
He does indeed chastise, but it is not for the sake 
of the suffering; it is for our profit. He looks to 
our highest ultimate welfare. "Like as a father 
pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that 
fear him. For he knoweth our frame; he remember- 
eth that we are dust." Like a wise father, he grat- 
ifies his children, when it may be safely done. When 
the gratification would ruin them he withholds it, 
but always for their sake, that they may be saved. 
If he withholds an apparent present good, it is that 



118 God in the Church. 

he may confer a real and eternal good hereafter. 
Evermore it is to the happiness of his chosen that 
his work tends. Toward this all things tend. His 
covenant with them stipulates this, and is "well-or- 
dered and sure in all things." The covenant itself 
is founded npon his everlasting love. "For a small 
moment have I forsaken thee; hut with great mer- 
cies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I hid my 
face from thee for a moment; but with everlasting 
kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord 
th} 7 Eedeemer." "Sing, heavens; and be joyful, 
earth; and break forth into singing, mountains: 
for the Lord hath comforted his people, and will 
have mercy upon his afflicted." 

1. The people of God are comforted by the removal 
of the cause of all misery. 

Sin is the malignant root of suffering. All the 
unrest, the fear, the remorse, that are in the world 
have been introduced by sin. Alienation from God 
has unsettled the soul from its equilibrium — has 
loosened it from its safe moorings, and set it adrift 
upon a stormy sea. Governed not by stable law, 
but by lawless passion, it drives painfully to its 
wreck. He who would cure the woes of humanity 
must cure its sin; he who would save it from an- 
guish must save it from corruption. The stream 
must be purified in the fountain; the tree must be 
made good if there is to be good fruit. It is through 
his work as the sanctifier that the Holy Spirit be- 
comes the Comforter. He offers no arbitrary, em- 
pirical relief. He eradicates evil — takes it up by the 
roots; he digs it up out of the soil. "The work 



God in the Church. 119 

of righteousness shall be peace, and the effect of 
righteousness quietness and assurance forever." The 
kingdom of God is "righteousness, and peace, and 
joy in the Holy Ghost." The first condition is 
righteousness. Only in that can there be peace and 
joy in the Holy Ghost. " There is no peace to the 
wicked, saith my God." He takes away sorrow by 
taking away sin. 

Let no one dare seek the comfort of the Holy 
Spirit who cherishes some secret sin. There must 
be no pretense; there must be thorough work made 
of repentance; the "dearest idol," the "bosom sin," 
must be sacrificed. Sin is the disturbing force in the 
spiritual sphere; in it there can be no rest. Seek 
purity, then peace will come of itself; seek a holy 
heart, for all blessedness is found in that. Only in 
purity of heart can there be communion with God> 
and in communion with God alone is there a satis- 
fying portion. 

As we have seen before, this purification of the 
soul, which brings it into harmony with the will 
and attributes of God, is the work of the Spirit. 
Nothing short of creative power can restore the 
soul; nothing short of this can purge it of its sin. 

Not that all troubles cease at the moment of the 
new birth, nor even in the highest states of experi- 
ence in the present life. Far from it. "In the 
world ye shall have tribulation." There is often a 
great fight of affliction to be maintained even in 
the most mature state of experience. But with the 
pain there is also peace. The very pain is sweetened 
by the love of God, which js deeper and stronger 



120 God in the Church. 

than it. God quiets and hushes his suffering child, 
and the very anguish makes it more sensitive to his 
caresses. 

Labor is rest and pain is sweet, 
If thou, my God, art there. 

Beyond this his sanctifying presence is fitting us 
for another stage of being, near at hand, in which 
"there shall be no more pain." We must be re- 
moved from this earth, which is the home of sin, 
before we can be delivered from all the effects of 
sin. While we are yet upon the field of battle, 
though victorious, we must still endure the discom- 
forts of the campaign ; but the victory prepares the 
soldier for the triumph and the repose that are to 
follow. "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they 
shall see God." "And I heard a voice from heaven, 
saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which 
die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the 
Spirit, that they may rest from their labors; and 
their works do follow them." 

2. The people of God are comforted by the assur- 
ance of faith. 

Through faith the Holy Spirit works in them a 
divine certainty of unseen things. Religion is no 
mere speculation. The kingdom of God cometh not 
with observation, but is within. Life is deepened, al- 
most infinitely, in this sense of divine things; both 
the successes and defeats of this life become insig- 
nificant. With one foot upon the threshold of eter- 
nity, with the voices of the seraphim in his ear, and 
the light of God blazing on all sides, what do the 
discomforts of a day signify? When religion has 



God in the Church. 121 

possession of a man — when thought and feeling are 
full of it — the joy of God exalts the soul so that a 
holy radiance tinges and brightens the lowliest and 
most unhappy conditions. "Faith is the substance 
of things hoped for, the evidence of things not 
seen." 

Nor is there only this general sense of the unseen ; 
there is also a particular sense of the fatherhood of 
God. In the higher conditions of the Christian con- 
sciousness the filial feeling toward God is full and 
rich; the witness of the Spirit is clear and satisfying; 
the voice of God makes itself articulate in the soul; 
the heart nestles under the wing of the Almighty, 
and feels itself suffused with the infinite love. Con- 
sciously, the child of God is baptized with the Holy 
Ghost: guilty before the inexorable law, he feels 
himself covered by the atoning merit of Christ, and 
receives the witness of his acceptance with God; 
helpless amid the disorders and agonies of a world 
estranged from God, he feels himself to be under the 
eye of the infinite pity, and kept by the infinite 
power; from the unfathomable depths of unseen 
Godhead are breathed upon him evermore the gra- 
cious words, "Let not your heart be troubled, nei- 
ther let it be afraid;" "Comfort ye, comfort ye my 
people, saith your God." 

3. The people of God are comforted in a joyful 
hope. 

Hope is an immediate fruit of the Spirit. " For 
we through the Spirit wait for the hope of right- 
eousness by faith." "Now the God of hope fill you 
with all joy and peace in believing, that ye may 
6 



12.2 God in the Church. 

abound in hope, through the power of the Holy 
Ghost." 

Surely, those who abound in hope abound also in 
joy, " looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious 
appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus 
Christ." They are looking for, and hasting unto, 
the coming of the day of Gocl. According to his 
promise, they look for new heavens and a new earth, 
wherein dwelleth righteousness; they have hope 
toward God that there shall be a resurrection of 
the dead; they live in hope of eternal life, which 
God, that cannot lie, promised before the world be- 
gan. Being justified by his grace, they are made 
heirs according to the hope of eternal life; Christ is 
in them the hope of glory, and they rejoice in hope 
of the glory of God. 

A principal office of hope is to impart strength — 
strength to labor, and also to suffer. No grand en- 
terprise can be prosecuted without it; effort is fee- 
ble, languid, inefficient, without it. Despairing labor 
is heavy, painful, slow, imperfect. Work done in 
high hope is done joyfully; every muscle is elastic; 
the step is spring} 7 , and the eye radiant. So despair 
adds the most poignant sting to pain; but hope 
cheats anguish of its pang, and infuses the antici- 
pated joy into the present sorrow. " The hope of 
the righteous shall be gladness." "Happy is he 
that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope 
is in the Lord his God." The soul exults in the 
hope of immortality; the light of it shines all along 
our pathway, penetrates the valley of the shadow 
of death, blazes upon the waters of the dark river, 



God in the Church. 123 

and brings within the range of vision all the glories 
of the life to come. Surely, we "have a strong 
consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold 
upon the hope set before us; which hope we have as 
an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and 
which entereth into that within the vail; whither 
the forerunner is for us en:ered, even Jesus, made a 
high-priest forever after the order of Melchisedec." 

4. The people of God are comforted by the imme- 
diate -presence of the Holy Spirit in times of affliction 
and bereavement. 

" When thou passest through the waters, I will be 
with thee; and through the rivers, they shall not 
overflow thee: when thou walkest through the Are, 
thou shalt not be burned; neither shall the flame 
kindle upon thee.'" " In the time of trouble he shall 
hide me in his pavilion : in the secret of his taber- 
nacle shall he hide me; he shall set me up upon a 
rock." "For thou hast been a strength to the poor, 
a strength to the needy in his distress, a refuge from 
the storm, a shadow from the heat, when the blast 
of the terrible ones is as a storm against the wall." 
The Lord is " my strength and my fortress, and my 
refuge in the day of afilictiou." " The Lord is good, 
a stronghold in the day of trouble; and he knoweth 
them that trust in him." " God comforteth them 
that are cast down." "I will not leave you com- 
fortless; I will come to you." 

Thy shining grace can cheer 

This dungeon where 1 dwell; 
'T is paradise when thou art here — 

If thou depart, 'tis hell. 



124 God in the Church. 

5. God comforts his people in death. 

"The righteous hath hope in his death." "Yea, 
though I walk through the valley of the shadow of 
death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me; thy 
rod and thy staff they comfort me." "The sting of 
death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law; but 
thanks be to God which giveth us the victory 
through our Lord Jesus Christ." "Death is swal- 
lowed up in victory." Death is not death to the 
saints. It is only a sweet sleep in which God lays 
them away to rest until he shall call for them; and 
he himself, by his Spirit, hushes them to their re- 
pose. He is by their bedside when the hour comes, 
and has promised to make all their bed in their 
sickness. Precious in his sight is the death of his 
saints. 

We have seen the followers of Christ die with a 
smile on their faces, and heard them say, "0 it is 
sweet to die!" Some of them, like Stephen, see an 
open heaven and a welcoming Saviour; and many 
have reported a vision of angels. The city of God 
and its glorious inhabitants come into sight. The 
soul, baptized already with the Spirit of God, is fully 
prepared for the high companionships into which it 
is just entering. Its vision is already adjusted to 
celestial light. Verily, this is not dying; it is com- 
ing into life. He whose life is hid with Christ in 
God, who lives in the Spirit and walks in the Spirit, 
only passes. from a lower to a higher region of life; 
from a plane of being which lies in the shadow of 
death, he ascends to another on which falls the full 
luster of the uncreated light. 



God in the Church. 125 

In conclusion, let us rejoice with joy unspeakable 
and full of glory. God is in the Church. He is 
with his people, not at second-hand, dealing not 
through a third party, but he is with them in act- 
ual presence. The Holy Ghost abides with the 
saints. The New Jerusalem has descended from 
God out of heaven, and the tabernacle of God is 
with men. From him a holy radiance shines in the 
Church, and through it irradiates the earth. The 
Comforter represents Christ in the world, and ef- 
fectuates the purpose of the Incarnation among 
men. The fact of his presence is second in grandeur 
and importance only to the coming of the Son of 
God as a sacrificial offering for sin. 

This Holy Presence is the glory of the Church. 
Not in the splendors of a costly architecture, nor 
of an artistic, elaborate, dramatic ritual; not in its 
painting, nor sculpture, nor poetry, nor music; not 
in any creation of art, which has its expression in 
the material, is witnessed the true grandeur of the 
Church of God. The Unseen Presence is its glory. 
The burning bush, the scenic grandeurs of Sinai, the 
pillar of fire, and all such outbursts of the glory of 
God in nature, in the prophetic and symbolic ages, 
were but faint intimations of the glory of the Spirit 
which was to abide in the Church forever. The 
essential glory is above all conditions of physical 
expression. It is in the person and character of 
God; it is in the region of pure spirit; it is the 
radiance of truth, the effulgence of righteousness, 
the beauties of holiness. Holiness is the glory of 
heaven. Holiness — it is the glory of God. Through 



126 God in the Church. 

the Holy Spirit, it is the glory of the Church. The 
holy lives of the people of God, and the holy truth 
which has heen committed to them, to keep and 
disseminate, constitute the expression of the divine 
amongst men. 

Alas! for the imperfections, the backslidings, the 
hypocrisies, that appear in the Church ! These are 
the spots in the sun. They shadow the light. Alas! 
that the medium through which the Spirit shines 
should be be so imperfect! What a focus of divine 
splendors the Church would be, if all who name the 
name of Christ would be careful to depart from in- 
iquity! 

But even as it is, through this poor medium of 
humanity, the indwelling glory of the Church shines 
with a wonderful brilliancy. Millions of men and 
women on earth, opening themselves to the Spirit 
without guile, have received his light until they are 
radiant in its pure beams. Through them it shines 
until even the blindest become conscious of it. It 
shines in the house of God; we have seen it there: 
not the "dim, religious light" of an artistic wor- 
ship, but the radiance of the Spirit — "the beauties 
of holiness." It might have been in the gorgeous 
temples of a great city; it might have been in the 
log-cabin of the frontier; or it might have been in 
the primeval forest, at some modern feast of tab- 
ernacles; but we have seen it — here or there, it mat- 
ters not. Then we saw, we felt, that architecture, 
fresco, fretted window, had their beauty not in 
themselves, but in a supernal light that rested 
there. In that light the naked rafter, the rough- 



God in the Church. 127 

hewn log, the puncheon floor of the frontier chapel, 
are transformed into an aspect of surpassing beauty. 
It is the same light that made the coarse garment 
of our Lord white so as no fuller on earth could 
whiten it — radiant-white, like snow, new fallen, 
under the solar blaze. 

We have seen that light. It was the Spirit of 
God spreading a hallowed tint even upon material 
objects, touching them into a beauty that belongs 
not to the things that perish. We have seen it in 
the forest, when the assemblies of the saints have 
gathered in those "first temples." We have almost 
heard the rustle of angels' wings in the foliage, 
which seemed tremulously conscious of God, while 
every twig and every leaf was tipped and fringed 
with celestial radiance. The noontide light lies 
upon field and forest richly yellow, like ethereal 
gold; the dewy morning glows with the smile of 
God; bars of level light, streaming in between the 
trunks and branches of the forest as the sun sinks 
to his setting, seem interwoven with celestial beams. 
The sordid soul, in its scuffle for pelf, sees no such 
light. It is a hallowed radiance; it is the incom- 
ing of God into consciousness; it is the exaltation 
of man to a higher plane — the emergence of the 
soul from the flesh into kindred spirit glories; it 
is the ISTew Jerusalem coming down from God out 
of heaven ; it is the dawn of the soul's eternal day. 
Xone can see that light but those whose eyes have 
been touched and opened by the power of God. The 
Ephphatha of the Spirit must be pronounced; the 
Creator himself must say, " Let there be light." 



128 God in the Church. 

The supreme fact — the condition of all spiritual 
communion — is purity of heart. Where this is, is 
the Holy Presence. 

"The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long- 
suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, 
temperance." " If we live in the Spirit, let us also 
walk in the Spirit." Thus walking, we shall live in 
him; thus dying, shall we enter into eternal life. 
The clay is at hand; its dawn is already upon us, in 
faith; our eyes are becoming accustomed to the 
light, that we may be prepared for the splendors of 
the city which has "no need of the sun, neither of 
the moon, to shine in it; for the glory of God doth 
lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." 



What is Man? 129 



Wilnt h Pan? 



SERMON IV.* 

" When T consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers; the 
moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what is man, 
that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou 
visitest him?" Ps. viii. 3, 4. 

THE flexibility of language is an interesting 
study. The slightest variation in the form of 
a word may give the gravest departure in the line 

* This Sermon, in substance, has been delivered a good many 
times. In .1874 the text was the theme of a Commencement 
Sermon at Emory College, Oxford, Georgia. A part of the 
matter was used in an address before the literary societies of 
Washington College, Lexington, Virginia, at the Commence- 
ment of 1870. Inasmuch as this part has already been in 
print I incorporate it here, verbatim. This will account for the 
form and phraseology, in so far as they differ from the cus- 
tomary composition of a sermon. The reader will readily per- 
ceive that that part was not prepared for the pulpit. I do not 
know, however, that it is any the worse for that. The line of 
thought is the same, or nearly the same, as that which was 
pursued in the pulpit. I may add, without impropriety, that 
the truth and value of the matter of it impress me more and 
more with advancing years. 
6* 



130 What is Man? 

of meaning. In the text, every thing depends on 
the mood of the verb. The skeptic says, "When I 
consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers; the 
moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained; what 
is man, that thou shouldst be mindful of him?" — 
making an argument against the fact of any special 
attention to man on the part of the Creator, on ac- 
count of his insignificance as in contrast with the 
great universe in which he lives. 

The devout believer, on the other hand, never 
once questioning the fact, yet overwhelmed with a 
sense of his own littleness in the presence of such 
vast displays of the power of God, exclaims, with 
the mingled emotions of joyful faith and adoring 
wonder, " When I consider thy heavens, the work of 
thy fingers; the moon and the stars, which thou hast 
ordained; what is man, that thou art mindful of 
him?" That God does visit man he well knows; 
but what an amazing tiling it is that he condescends 
to interest himself in our affairs! What am I? 
what can I be to Him who made all worlds? When 
a man begins to form some idea of the great masses 
of matter which constitute those worlds which fioat 
around him, on all sides, and the inconceivable 
measures of the space through which they are scat- 
tered, no wonder that he should have a painful and 
humiliating sense of his own diminutive stature. 

The world that he inhabits, he discovers, is one 
of the smallest; even among the planets it is one 
of the least, if you except the asteroids, which, cer- 
tainly, ought not to enter into the estimate at all, 
being mere fragments — chips and hewings, swept 



What is Man? 131 

from the shop when the planetary structure was 
finished; and of the planets the most massive is 
bnt as a child's toy compared with those great gov- 
erning masses that are at the head of families of 
worlds about them. Take all that has been brought 
within the range of vision by the most powerful 
lenses, and put the earth into comparison with it, 
what does it amount to? It is, in relation to the 
whole, no greater than the lightest particle of the 
dust that rises from your carriage- wheel upon the 
highway is in relation to the bulk of the earth. 
We may well imagine that "an angel sent out with a 
microscope to search for the earth would be millions 
of ages finding it. And on this globular speck 
what is man? He is incomparably less, as respects 
the earth, than the smallest animalcule is to the 
pool in which it is bred. May we not, then, sup- 
pose that a man would be no more to the great God 
than one of the infusoria is to the man who may 
chance to own the pool which it inhabits? 

But the contrast drawn in the text is not between 
the individual man and the rest of the universe, but 
between man and the Uaker and Proprietor of the 
universe. " When I consider thy heavens, the work 
of thy fingers; the moon and the stars, which thou 
hast ordained; what is man?" When you put the 
weight of a man in the scales against all worlds, he 
is lost; he cannot be felt. How much more when 
the contrast is between him and the God who made 
all the worlds ! It is the Power of whom all the 
worlds are but a partial and imperfect exponent 
that we are put into contrast with, in this passage. 



132 What is Man? 

Our puny thought labors for some symbol that may 
represent the disparity; but we must give it up in 
despair, conscious only that in that presence we are 
nothing. 

The contrast is heightened by the terms in which 
the work of the Creator is described in the text. 
With what ease he is represented as turning off his 
work! The heavens are the work of his fingers. 
All those enormous masses of matter he projected 
into being without an effort! They are the work 
of his fingers. He never poised himself upon his 
loins. The resources of his strength were never 
touched. The easy, almost unconscious, manipula- 
tion of his fingers shaped them all and tossed them 
into their places. Put the best product of your 
own power into the comparison. You raise a stone 
of two hundred pounds weight to an elevation of 
five feet, and you have done a great thing. How 
you strained every muscle in the herculean achieve- 
ment! "When you undertake to raise a mass of half 
a ton's weight to the height of fifty feet you have to 
call a half dozen others to your aid, and, with ample 
apparatus, with elaborate contrivance of derrick, of 
block and tackle, of ropes and pulleys, with slow 
and painful labor, you bring it to its place at last — 
taking prudent care the while lest, something giv- 
ing way, you should be crushed by your own ma- 
chinery. 

But God handles worlds, and never feels their 
weight. It scarcely seems as if it had cost him the 
labor of any thought. He fashions them with his 
fingers, as if it were the recreative employment of 



What is Man? 133 

his leisure, rather than a serious labor. Well may 
we shrink into the deepest sense of insignificance 
before him, and with self-depreciating awe adore the 
condescension with which he takes any notice of us. 

But in this estimate of ourselves we are liable to 
commit a great blunder. Many, I doubt not, do so. 
They take into their account of man only his phys- 
ical dimensions, and undertake to ascertain his value 
solely upon that basis. In doing this they leave out 
the principal factor — in fact, the only one that is of 
any real account. 

It must never be forgotten that values are not 
found in masses and magnitudes. If this were so, 
a man's worth would be as his weight. To ascer- 
tain his exact value as a man, you would have only 
to put him in the scales. You might find an idiot 
weighing four hundred pounds, and a statesman 
one hundred and twenty-five. The result goes 
heavily against the statesman; yet more heavily 
will he be discounted if you put him against a fat 
Durham ox. Depend upon it, values are not in 
masses, but in something quite diverse from that. 

If I knew of a house-fly that could comprehend 
the parallax, and compute sidereal distances, or cal- 
culate an eclipse, I should hold him in distinguished 
regard. I should feel proud to harbor a family of 
fleas upon my person if I but knew they had mas- 
tered Euclid, were examining the rays of Sirius by 
spectrum analysis, or observing the transit of Venus 
with intelligent interest. Whoever or whatever he 
may be that is capable of intelligent consciousness 
of nature is of greater value than all unconscious 



134 What is Man? 

nature, whatever its extent; and if, going beyond 
this, he shall get glimpses of the Author of nature, 
all comparison of him and it ceases. He is upon 
an elevation that is above all comparative estimate 
with what is below him. Between that point and 
any thing below it the distance is simply immeasur- 
able. 

On this elevation we find man. His very capacity 
to make some contrast of himself with God, having 
interpreted him by his works, and to realize the in- 
finitesimal diminutiveness of the greatest finite in 
comparison of the Infinite, gives him an importance 
and dignity in the presence of which my poor speech 
becomes discouraged with itself. You may be sure 
the inspired psalmist understood this matter too 
well to put himself in contrast with the moon and 
stars, so as to feel humiliated by the disparity of 
bulk. In that comparison he would be filled with 
a sense of his own elevation — for, comprehending 
nature, however imperfectly, he must be greater 
than nature; but before the Being who has all the 
wisdom, the knowledge, and the power that come 
into expression in nature he bows and worships, 
with most profound humility and self-depreciation. 

Yet comparative nothingness before God is com- 
patible with the highest conception of finite dignity 
and grandeur, of both person and destiny. A man 
may think of himself as a being of high significance 
in his actual subjective importance, while yet he has 
deepest sense of the disparity there is between him 
and the Being whose fingers fashioned the stars. 

Man is great. Taken in himself, and in his rela- 



What is Man? 135 

tion to nature, it is impossible to overestimate him. 
In any just consideration of the factors to be taken 
into the account, any one man must be of priceless 
worth. The text was not intended to depreciate 
man. It is only a devout recognition of the Infi- 
nite Source of being. It is the language of worship, 
and expresses the humility of the worshiper in that 
Supreme Presence before which the whole vast ag- 
gregate of finite things is inexpressibly small. But 
it leaves to man any advantage that facts may jus- 
tify in the field of finite comparisons. He may be 
never so great in any such view, yet the humbling 
interrogatory of the text remains a most just and a 
most beautiful recognition of the relation between 
him and God, and a most becoming act of worship. 
The terms of it put man in contrast with God, and 
with nothing else. 

But I propose to consider the question, What is 
man? in another light. What is he, in fact? I will 
not ask how he may properly view himself in the 
presence of his Creator, but what he is considered 
in himself — what he is to himself, and therefore to 
his Maker; for little as he may be in contrast 
with God, yet in God's estimate of him his value 
is found in his own nature. What a man is in 
himself and to himself will give all the factors of 
a just estimate; and in the light ofsuch^ an esti- 
mate does his Maker regard him, for he sees things 
as they are in themselves. 

What, then, is man? I proceed to lay down one 
general proposition, which will constitute the theme 
of this discourse. It is this : 



136 What is Mem? 

Man is such a being as that, a priori, we might 

WELL EXPECT GOD TO BE MINDFUL OF HIM, AND TO 
VISIT HIM. 

This proposition I propose to maintain and illus- 
trate. 

If any should object, at the outset, that such a 
view of our own importance must foster pride, as 
possibly may be the case, perhaps I ought to pause 
long enough to say, That cannot be so. The more 
adequately a man conceives of his own actual great- 
ness, the more will he see and feel the greatness of 
God; as he has profounder sense of his own being, 
God becomes more and more to him. A serious 
view of his own powers will involve a serious view 
of his responsibilities, and of the sovereign author- 
ity under which he holds his existence; and these 
are the considerations that inspire humility. TV hat- 
ever may be the greatness of the finite, still there is 
infinite disparity between it and the Infinite. The 
greater the sense of power in the creature, the 
deeper will be the sense of its littleness before the 
Creator. God is not much to a man whose being is 
lightly estimated by himself. The man that struts 
and stiffens with self-consciousness is the man to 
whom the significance of his own existence is unper- 
ceived; he does not see himself in that serious light 
which suggests humility; in fact, the flippant man 
is incapable of any profound self-abasement. Sin is 
nothing to him ; God is little or nothing to him ; the 
words worthiness and anworthiness scarcely mean any 
thins: to his ear. But let a man once realize what his 
own being is and means, and then God, and sin, and 



What is Man? 137 

holiness, and responsibility, and destiny, become 
words of such import to him as overwhelms him 
with a humbling sense of himself in the presence of 
the Almighty and All- holy. That man is capable 
of a great humility. 

Let us, then, not hesitate to consider the proposi- 
tion in the light of rational inquiry. Truth can do 
no evil. The more fully we know ourselves, the 
better will we be prepared to know God, to realize 
our obligation to him, and to respond to his claims 
upon us. 

Let us proceed, then, to inquire, What is our life? 
and to make up a just estimate of our existence, in 
view of the facts elicited. 

At the outset I suggest a preliminary inquiry, the 
pertinency of which will become apparent as we 
proceed: What end did the Creator propose to him- 
self in the work of creation? Imagine yourself a 
spectator of the august scene when God was framing 
the worlds; endeavor to realize the reaches of space 
taken possession of, and the stupendous forces 
brought into play; dwell upon the endless variety 
and minute detail of plan. What was the purpose? 
for there must have been an end in view. You 
cannot think of an intelligent worker engaged in 
his work without supposing an end toward which 
the work proceeds — an object that is, in his estima- 
tion, worthy of him, and adequate to the time and 
labor bestowed. It is a fundamental condition of 
thought that you should suppose this. You cannot 
think of God engaged in this work without sup- 
posing that he intends to accomplish a purpose, to 



138 What is Man? 

reach an object, which will be worthy fruit of his 
labor. 

We will suppose that the work has progressed to 
the completion of the physical universe. The sun 
blazes in the firmament; the moon swings through 
the half-illuminated abysses of night; the stars fleck 
the sky, hinting the mysteries and the immensities 
of God's domain. The earth is finished, in contour 
and in detail: the mountains stand in their places; 
rivers sweep along their channels; oceans fill their 
basins; forests wave their foliage in the light; plains 
lie spread out in their beauty; grasses carpet the 
earth; meteorological phenomena appear, and the 
processes of nature are all active. Now, suppose 
the work to stop at this point, and then ask yourself, 
What has been done? what object has been accom- 
plished? Is there an end in which you can imagine 
the Creator to have satisfaction? I do not hesitate 
to answer, No! Nothing has been accomplished — 
nothing that you can accept as a worthy issue of 
the work clone. Think of it! What has been 
achieved, upon the supposition that the work stops 
upon the plane of mere material existence? 

Can you suppose that God required it to project 
into objective relations to himself, this expression of 
his own wisdom and power, that he might become 
well aware of them? The thought would be almost 
a blasphemy. Did he require the universe to be a 
great plaything for himself, to amuse the solitude 
of his existence? Preposterous ! You cannot think 
of such a thing. 

An expression of his wisdom and power it is; 



What is Man? 139 

but there is no witness of it except himself, and lie 
needs it not. The resources of his own being suf- 
fice for his own blessedness. In the creation of mere 
dead masses of matter, and the establishment of the 
order of nature, I repeat it, nothing has been done — 
absolutely nothing. 

But now man appears upon the scene. He looks 
abroad, sees the magnificent display, and enjoys it; 
he looks up through nature, and begins to be con- 
scious of God. Here the Creator's work stands face 
to face with him; he enters into conscious commu- 
nication with him, hears his voice, receives his word, 
and gives him back responses of love and worship. 
The work of creation has a witness, now, who can 
be recipient of its divinest meaning; here in man 
nature reaches consciousness, and comes to know its 
Author. This is the result — the crowning fact of 
all the work. 

We can account for the universe now, and under- 
stand it. It was worth while to do all this work; it 
was worth while to make the worlds, since they 
were to be the abode of man. 

£Tow I know why the dome of the heavens stands 
above, and why the stars hang like jets of glory 
all over it: it was to roof in intelligent life. E~ow 
I know why mountain-chains ridge the earth, and 
rivers seam it — why seasons come and go, why rains 
descend, and harvests grow. God was preparing 
for the finishing-touch, the last effort of his hand — 
for a product of creative power that should be in 
his own image. For the coming occupant he must 
make provision. ISTow I know why the grass and 



140 What is Man? 

the forest-leaves were in beautiful green; they were 
to refresh his eye for whom they were created. No 
wonder the skies were of beautiful blue; no wonder 
the tints of the morning were penciled with such 
exquisite shading; no wonder the cloud-drapery of 
the evening was dyed in a thousand hues, flaming 
and mellow, in touches that might intoxicate an 
angel with beauty! for God was ornamenting a 
home for his child, man. 

Intelligent life is the exponent of God's work. We 
accept man's presence in nature as a sufficient expo- 
nent of nature; we are satisfied with this result. 
He who is consciously recipient of the Creator's be- 
neficence might well have a universe created to be 
his residence. Nature is explained the moment it is 
seen to be the basis of intelligent life. 

Now we are prepared to take more accurate ac- 
count of this highest product of divine skill — human 
life — and estimate its value in its own light. In the 
light of this crowning fact of his work, when it 
stood forth in the freshness of its first beauty, as the 
exponent of all he had clone, God said " it was good" 
— "it was very good/' What is this — this human 
life — that he looks upon as the finish of his work, 
and is complacent? 

We will look into the significance of his being, as 
it appears in a rational view of its own data, and 
pursue the investigation in the light of our own 
proposition — that man is such a being as we might 
well expect his Maker to be mindful of, and to visit. 

Life, on one side, indeed, presents a trivial aspect. 
If you contemplate a man with greater or less pains 



What is Man? 141 

collecting his food, and then consuming it with the 
eager appetite of the boor or the gratified gusto 
of the gourmand, or making his toilet in good or 
bad taste; if you contemplate him as he makes 
money, and hoards or spends it; as he goes to his 
business in the morning, smoking a cigar, to chaffer 
and wrangle about prices and per cents; or as he 
returns at night successful and satisfied, or, it may 
be, chagrined, defeated, gloomy; or as he puts in a 
parenthesis of relaxation or of pleasure-taking upon 
the prosy page filled up with care and labor; if you 
contemplate him, in early life, in the midst of a 
widening circle of domestic and social relations, 
happy or vexatious; or in declining years, as the 
circle gradually disintegrates, until he himself, at 
last, in pitiable senility, sinks down into the dust — 
and understand that this is life — then life, to you at 
least, is a beggarly business; an officious, preten- 
tious exhibition of small wares; a poor play, for the 
most part clumsily rendered, ending flat, and prop- 
erly entitled, "Much Ado about Nothing." If this 
is life, and life is this, one might well be pardoned if 
he should deplore his birth and revile the fates that 
introduced so high a consciousness to a destiny so 
mean. 

A civilized condition does not relieve the little- 
nesses of existence, if life is nothing more than this. 
The elegant attitude and flexure of good manners, 
the improved quality of coat and condiments, a cul- 
tivated mind, and an extended range of pleasures, 
form a background that brings into more full relief 
the puerile figures of the picture. They are costly 



142 What is Man? 

drapery of coarse furniture — a gilt edge upon straw 
paper; they increase the parade without enhancing 
the result; they make more sound, but give no bet- 
ter sense; there is greater "ado," but still all about 
"nothing." 

Are railroads built, and "great ships," just that a 
more extended and more active commerce may 
bring greater variety of good food? Are wars pro- 
voked and carried on, amid terrors, desolations, and 
deaths — carried on, sometimes, until they breed 
famine and pestilence, and depopulate States — just 
to assert and defend the "rights" of an intelligent 
animal in the matter of pasture and provender? Is 
civil society organized, and are governments estab- 
lished and kept up, by legislation and diplomacy, 
with great show of judicial and executive dignities 
and dignitaries, having power to imprison and to 
hang, with all the incidents of tariff and taxation, 
and all questions of domestic economy and finance, 
just to aid the citizen in securing his "supplies" and 
protect him against the lazy and the thievish, so 
that he may eat his dinner, with his household, in 
quiet satisfaction, and sleep at night with some as- 
surance that he will have a coat to wear the next 
day? Does the telegraph bring two hemispheres 
together, in your morning paper, only that you may 
have a broad view of the stage upon which this 
puppet-show of digging, and bargaining, and scram- 
bling, and eating, and dressing, and dying, is being 
performed? 

If this be so, theu the man culminates in his stom- 
ach, and the most perfect life is realized in the 



What is Man? 143 

keenest appetite and the best digestion ; then the 
solution of our existence is found in the answer to 
three petty questions: "What shall I eat? what 
shall I drink? wherewithal shall I he clothed?" 
Then the great endowment of reason is valuable 
only to discover the most efficient means of produc- 
ing corn and cotton, and to invent the best methods 
of grinding the one and fabricating the other. The 
soul is a mere incident, intellect a more elaborate, 
but less direct and often less efficient, capacity of 
finding acorns than instinct, and the body — the 
great receiver and consumer — is the man, the point 
in which life culminates and destiny is realized. 
To feed well, to be well housed and well conditioned, 
for the space of thirty years upon an average, and 
to die with as little pain as may be, is the chief good. 
Is it this, indeed, in which all the hopes and fears, 
the aims and agonies, of life culminate? Is this 
what the word man means ? Is man a mere money- 
making and food-consuming machine? 

The question is answered in your minds already. 
On every face, in every eye, I see it written, No! 
These physical conditions are but the base of the 
grand structure which we name man. Bread is val- 
uable, indeed; rather, I should say invaluable, for 
it is the foundation of a grand edifice — Life ; at least, 
as life now appears, in its present phenomenal con- 
ditions, it rests on bread. Life does not culminate 
in bread-eating — that reverses the order; bread-eat- 
ing culminates in life. 

Eating, and drinking, and delving, and trading, 
as processes that end in a higher result, acquire 



144 What is Man? ■ 

value and dignity from the end they serve. The 
coarse substructure is a most worthy thing, since it 
hears up the sacred temple. In its relation to that 
it has a certain beauty, but taken by itself it is 
both worthless and unsightly; and that were surely 
a most ludicrous perversion which should assert 
that the temple existed for the sake of the rough 
stones it rested on. Life is not made for care and 
toil, for eating and drinking, but is itself the high 
result developed out of these conditions. They 
have no value save in their relations to it. 

In life itself — in consciousness — is the measure of 
humanity to be taken, and not in its incidents and 
accessories. Not in the fact of feeding, but of be- 
ing, are we interested. Consciousness is the true 
exponent of all values. What a man is, consciously, 
will supply the data by which every estimate of him 
must be made. 

I invite you, therefore, to the task of introspec- 
tion — to an analysis of consciousness — that you may 
take just views of the signification of your own ex- 
istence, and direct your aims accordingly. 

My great quarrel with men, especially young 
men, is that they underestimate themselves. They 
measure themselves by a false standard, and get a 
contemptible result; they judge their existence hy 
its accessories, and not by itself; they contemplate 
consciousness through the muddy medium of sen- 
suality. They take the dimensions of a man, and 
put him in the scales: he is six feet by one and a 
half, and weighs a hundred and seventy-five pounds; 
he tells capital anecdotes, is a first-rate business 



What is Man? 145 

man, keeps a fast horse, and his palate discriminates 
most nicely the flavor of good wines — as if spher- 
ical trigonometry and avoirdupois could express 
man, or life culminated in notes and accounts, in a 
good joke and a bottle of sherry or champagne. 

Let us, then, find the contents of consciousness, 
ascertain their significance, and determine their 
value. 

First, let me say, All value begins in the fact of 
consciousness itself. Below that point there is noth- 
ing on which to base an estimate. It is just as 
well not to be as not to be conscious. Below the 
line of consciousness things have no value to them- 
selves. To living, conscious being they may render 
some service, and so, in their relation to it, have a 
certain value. All that they are worth comes of 
their relation to some of those high natures which 
they serve. Take a tree, for instance, standing on 
the summit of a hill: there is no more beautiful 
object than a symmetrical, well-developed tree, 
with perpendicular shaft piercing the atmosphere, 
its lateral branches on all sides covered with foliage, 
swaying in the wind and bathed in sunlight. it 
is at once magnificent and beautiful! Yet to itself 
ihe tree is nothing; to it there is no warmth in the 
warm ray, no luster in the light, no rhythm in the 
rustle of its own leaves; it is a matter of no con- 
sequence to it whether it shall live a thousand years 
or die to-morrow; it has no concern upon the sub- 
ject; whether it shall toss its branches in ten thou- 
sand coming storms or yield them to the furnace 
to- clay, is all one to it; when the ax is lifted against 



146 What is Man? 

its side it looks around with no regret upon the for- 
est of which it is taking its last leave. The young 
lady at her piano may sing, with great pathos, 
"Woodman, spare that tree;" hut the sentiment is 
all in herself. . The crash of its fall is an affecting 
farewell to yon who have loved it long, but to itself 
it is nothing. "To he or not to be" is not the cpies- 
tion with it; it has no questions. But in its branches 
there sits a little sparrow, twitteriug its evening mel- 
ody with satisfaction: in its minute way the tiny 
thing enjoys itself. Here we are upon the plane of 
consciousness, and here existence begins to have a 
certain value to itself. Sparrow-life is something to 
itself. And just here God begins to take paternal 
interest in his own works: his eye pursues with 
parental solicitude the flight and fall of the little 
sparrow; not one of them falleth to the ground 
without his notice. This life is worth something 
even to God. 

But sparrow-life is as nothing to human life. " Ye 
are of more value than many sparrows." Human 
consciousness, for range and depth, finds nothing 
comparable to itself in all the world below it. Let 
us see what it is. 

Take it at an early stage. Take the little child, 
two or three years old, sunning itself in its mother's 
smile, or thrilled in her embrace. How his soul 
melts under the magic of her voice! What a sense 
of being and of blessedness there is! It is the 
prophecy of coming wonders. The mysterious light 
of life, kindled within, irradiates his face; eye, and 
limb, and voice, give vent to the overflowing vital- 



What is Man? 147 

ity. What a gush of feeling! And then, again, 
what a sense of wonder! Life is a perpetual ro- 
mance: beauty pours itself in upon him through 
the eye, and paints itself upon his thought; music 
comes to him on the invisible waves of the air, and 
diffuses itself, like a spiritual presence, through all 
his soul; darkness comes, and silence, and the 
hush and the obscurity awe him; tempests rage, 
and the fierce flame of the lightning, the thunder- 
crash, and the roar and rush of resistless winds, 
frighten him; strifes and vexations, hopes and 
fears, joys and sorrows, loves and hatreds, begin 
already to make uproar in him. child-life is a 
wondrous thing! 

But the wonder deepens. Let a few more years 
do their work in him. Send his mind off among 
the stars and beyond them — out into the open, un- 
limited space. Let him read the first chapter of 
Genesis; let him contemplate, however dimly, the 
throes of creative energy and the birth of worlds; 
let him look on when light flames out of the eter- 
nal darkness and discloses the vision of the uni- 
verse. Set him face to face with death, and tell 
him of "the everlasting life after death." Let him 
get mysterious, inadequate intimations of Godhead. 
Give him to understand that the activities of life do 
not terminate in single acts, but that they go on to 
eternal destinies. Open to him the great doctrine 
of responsibility — the sovereignty of God, the au- 
thority of the Law, and the final account which all 
men shall give to the Creator. Let him form some 
conception of the result of character in destiny. 



148 What is Man? 

Now, what questions he will ask — questions of all 
mysterious things! He will solicit the earth for her 
secrets — her hills and forests, her mountains and 
rivers, her caves and oceans, and all her voices and 
silences; he will interrogate the distances and the 
inaccessible stars; he will explore the depths of his 
own thought, and ask whence and why he is. At 
length, passing from the created to the uncreated, 
he will strive to ascertain the essence and the origin 
of things. 

This very power to ask questions stamps him 
with hio4i value. It indicates a form of conscious- 
ness in vital contact with outer being and with 
vital interest in all things. What breadth and 
sweep of personal being are given in the power to 
ask questions! 

Let us, then, consider the elements of conscious- 
ness, and reduce them to an ana^sis which, though 
extremely imperfect, may yet aid us in forming 
some just notion of the import of our existence. 

We will begin with the faculty of understanding 
— the power to know. There is not only perception 
of things, but also account taken of them. The 
mind has knowledge of them — it grasps and con- 
tains the ideas of things. Thus, as we may say, 
material objects exist over again in the human mind. 
They are reproduced in the understanding. 

Take an illustration already used: The tree, so 
full of beauty in itself, and yet to itself nothing, 
takes form again in the understanding; it has, as 
you may say, another existence there. Earth, air, 
and sky — rocks, hills, fields, floods, and forests; 



What is Man? 149 

rivers and oceans; light, darkness, fire, tempests; 
all things — become, by means of the understanding, 
subjective in human consciousness. To the full ex- 
tent to which a man's knowledge of the facts of 
creation reaches, they are reproduced in him. If 
it should ever be that one mind could grasp the 
whole universe, the cosmos would be duplicated in 
that mind! 

Nor is it material objects alone that take form 
and being in the mind, but all facts. Relations, 
laws, movements, forces, processes, voices, attitudes, 
uses, qualities, principles, are all grasped by the 
mind — all go into its consciousness, and become, 
thus, part and parcel of itself. They become the 
contents of the mind. The inanimate works of 
God become significant and acquire a value, now, 
which in themselves they could not have. 

But the understanding does much more than 
merely to grasp the works of God: it recognizes 
even the fact of the divine existence; it sweeps up 
through the created to the uncreated. Man con- 
templates God. 

On what an altitude of being must he stand who 
can entertain the thought of God — who can con- 
template the Creator! The capacity to think on 
so high a plane as that which, touches upon the In- 
finite is glorious indeed. This is the last result of 
creative power. God's work opens its eyes upon 
himself, and stands face to face with him. The 
creature meets the Creator, and becomes conscious 
of him. This product of his energy is capable of 
receiving manifestations of himself, and of respond- 



150 What is Man? 

ing to them. The workmanship of his hands holds 
intelligent intercourse with him. Here the creation 
blossoms, and bears fruit that may feast even God. 
He looked upon it with satisfaction, and said, "It is 
good." 

So much for the understanding. Consider next 
the faculty of reasoning — the power to classify facts, 
to consider them in the light of data — the power to 
proceed from cause to consequence, from premise 
to conclusion: the faculty of mathematical and 
philosophical research. 

The mind is not just a store-house — a mere de- 
pository of facts; it has also the faculty of using 
the facts held by the understanding for high pur- 
poses of speculation and action; it constructs sys- 
tems of science, of mechanics, of art, of government, 
of philosophy, of morals. Thus from facts, which 
are the raw T material of thought, it brings out all 
the stupendous results of mental force, the finished 
and polished products of intellectual skill. God's 
creation is the field which man's reason cultivates, 
and from the furrow of his thought there springs 
an efflorescence more beautiful than Sharon, and 
more fragrant than Oriental gardens, and fruit 
more luscious than the grapes of Eshcol. 

Reason manifests itself in three forms — logic, 
philosophy, and art, which includes poetry. Logic 
is the pure reason, and includes mathematics; its 
simplest expression is in mathematical demonstra- 
tions. Philosophy and art are an outgrowth of the 
pure reason, and cover a wide range: on one side 
they give speculation, metaphysics, psychology, and 



What is Man? 151 

imagination, which itself is a manifestation of rea- 
son and the source of all art; on the other side, 
the practical, they give all organization — govern- 
ments, corporations, commerce, organized indus- 
tries. From the works of God, which become sub- 
jective in the understanding, what new creations 
are evolved! What new earths and new heavens 
float and glow in the firmament of thought ! The 
creation not only exists over again in man, but be- 
comes reproductive : each fact is germinant, and 
worlds on worlds in the abysses of thought are the 
harvest. 

Doctrines, systems, philosophies, dramas, epics, 
lyrics — now sweeping outward with cosmical 
breadth and grandeur, now searching inward with 
incisive pungency, now dogmatizing with magis- 
terial thunder-voice, now booming forward on the 
railway of induction, irresistible — ergo, ergo, now 
putting forth solicitous antennce of experiment, 
and now weaving rainbows with facile interplay of 
thought and sentiment, or peopling the universe 
with all possible forms of beauty, and grandeur, 
and terror — these are the offspring of reason. 

Governments, societies, industries, as we have 
seen, all come of this faculty. All organized ac- 
tivities and historical movements, all forces of soci- 
ety and the resulting conditions, come of it. Science, 
sculpture, painting, architecture, poetry, are products 
of it. 

Closely allied to reason is the " faith faculty." 
Faith is the cognition of the unseen, of the spirit- 
ual ; it is the understanding in its highest function 



152 What is Man? 

— the understanding as it is related to the highest 
forms of being, the spiritual and divine. 

The very fact that there is such a faculty in man 
is high proof of the reality of unseen things. Other- 
wise, there is somewhat subjective in man which has 
no objective fact answering to it. Indeed, the chief 
glory and crown of his consciousness is that it 
touches God, that it recognizes and realizes the In- 
finite. 

Every man feels that that which is deepest and 
richest in himself and in the possibilities of his being 
is above all terms of mere scientific expression; it 
cannot be postulated in any mathematical formula: 
no diagram upon the blackboard can represent it. 
The spiritual essence exists under more subtle con- 
ditions; its relations to God and eternity belong to 
a higher class of facts. 

In attempting this elevation reason bewilders it- 
self amid an overwhelming array of unresolved 
nebulce; it discovers supernal light and an unap- 
proachable glory; all is remote, inaccessible, unde- 
fined. How eagerly it turns the object-glass of 
revelation upon these heavens! and with what joy 
it sees each luminous cloud resolved into stars! 
There they stand high in the holy places — everlast- 
ing utterances of God. 

With regard to spiritual and divine things, faith 
is the ultimate word of reason. The highest reason 
ends in faith; in a region where it can find no data 
of scientific induction, it hears the voice of God, 
recognizes it, trusts it, follows it. God's will and 
purposes on one side, and man's obligation and des- 



What is Man? 153 

tiny on the other, come into a clear light. Faith 
puts us into immediate communication with God and 
with the highest range of facts in the universe; life 
and immortality are brought to light; man dis- 
covers himself in the brotherhood of the immortals; 
he finds himself on a footing with the princedoms 
and powers of a higher life. 

In the great fact of the Atonement faith gazes into 
the depths of the divine nature, and witnesses the 
utmost glory of God. 

The most general analysis of the elements of con- 
sciousness must include the conscience, through which 
we are related to the divine government and the 
law of right. Conscience is the recognition and 
sense of obligation; it is the correlative, in conscious- 
ness, of ought and ought not in conduct. In a being 
governed by mechanical force it would have no 
office. 

But, with respect to moral actions, man is free: 
he is self-moved, self-directed; he adjusts himself, 
without constraint, to the law of right, and breaks 
it or keeps it as he wills, accounting at last to the 
Supreme Judge. In this fact the dignity of man's 
nature is impressively apparent; for an inseparable 
incident of the elevation is the hazard of miscar- 
riage. Freedom, misadjusting the helm, may land 
the rich cargo of consciousness at the port of perdi- 
tion. We are at the point of departure, upward or 
downward, to destinies of our own making. 

But we have not yet fully explored the field of 
consciousness. The affections, passions, sentiments, 
and emotions, give an important factor in any just 
♦ 7* 



154 What is Man? 

estimate of human life; in them are found unutter- 
able possibilities of misery and of joy, of pleasure 
and of pain. The importance of life to itself consists 
largely in these facts; they enrich it beyond compu- 
tation ; they afford, also, the possible condition of its 
deepest impoverishment; they give, in a perverted 
nature, the sense of loss and degradation ; they con- 
tain the susceptibility of shame and remorse. 

Thus man not only knows and thinks, hut also 
feels. The range of feeling is commensurate with 
that of thought. There are in man sensitive re- 
sponses to the appeals of all external objects; he 
is most exquisitely receptive of manifestations of 
beauty, grandeur, sublimity. What pleasure, what 
elevation, what awe, he realizes in their presence! 
how infinitely varied are his emotions, in character, 
tone, and degree ! From the merest sense of com- 
placency to the most consuming love, from the 
lightest shadow of repugnance to the hot fury of 
insatiable revenge, from the quietest sense of pleas- 
ure to the most tumultuous passion of joy, the 
changes, and degrees, and shadings, are infinite. 
The soul is " a harp of a thousand strings," giving 
forth, at times, the hum of a half audible melody, 
and then the exultant swell, and rush, and rapture, 
of celestial music; and then again from the vexed 
chords will come the clang and clash of discord 
diabolical. 

We have seen that external objects coming into 
the mind have a sort of second existence there— 
that they are reproduced in the understanding. 
Material objects, as they exist in themselves, are 



What is Man? 155 

unconscious, and of no value. The beautiful tree — 
its foliage gemmed with rain-drops under the sun- 
burst that succeeds the storm — is a mere dead thing, 
and, standing by itself, must go for nothing; but 
when it takes a second being in the mind of some 
man, it is no longer a dead thing, but becomes a 
living thought. The mountain, in its massive grand- 
eur, with all its crags, and gorges, and precipices, 
its glaciers and cascades — dead, and dark, and silent 
to itself— comes into our thought, and has there the 
breath of life breathed into it; then all its magnifi- 
cence becomes vital — it lives. The pebble on the 
beach, struck by a wanton hoof, bounds into the 
sunlight, and, unaware of its own beauty, careless 
of its own destiny, catches the eye of some strolling 
boy, goes through it into his soul, and is there "a 
thing of beauty and a joy forever." 

Thus all that comes into the mind is raised at 
once to the plane of consciousness, and becomes 
vital; all dead things come to life there; they form 
the texture of thought; they become thought; they 
are no longer insensate; they breathe; they flash 
with intelligence; they are alive; they know them- 
selves; they revel in their own light, and are con- 
sciously tremulous in their own rhythm. 

External objects, as they reappear in thought, ac- 
quire sensibility as well. All beautiful things in 
the mind are vital with esthetic feeling. When the 
Hebrew poet demands of the forests and of the waves 
of the sea that they shall rejoice, that they shall 
clap their hands and praise G-od, if you take the 
waves and forests as they are in themselves only, 



156 What is Man? 

we must receive it as mere Oriental extravaganza; 
but when you take forests and ocean-waves as they 
exist in your own thought, they do indeed worship. 
The exultant swell of their shout is worthy music 
for the ear of God; in your understanding they are 
all conscious of the Creator, and give back intelli- 
gent responses of felt praise to him. 

In fact, you will find, upon reflection, that all con- 
sciousness, or nearly all, is conditioned upon the 
presence of the objective in the understanding. Al- 
most all thought and sensibility are thus condi- 
tioned. A man who should be, from his birth, 
shut off from all communication with the objective 
would realize himself but vaguely; there could be 
little or no thought; the esthetic feeling would be 
wholly dormant, for the occasion of its evolution 
would be absent. So of all emotion: the field of 
consciousness would be reduced to the narrowest 
limit; there could be nothing more than the mere 
sense of being, and that itself would be extremely 
vague. It is the subjectivity of the objective, then, as 
it comes into thought, that constitutes the staple of 
consciousness. 

So man realizes himself through that which is 
not himself. It follows that the area of conscious- 
ness is greater or less as the external is taken in. 
The intenseness of it may depend on other condi- 
tions, but its breadth is always, and of necessity, 
given in the extent of knowledge. 

I ask you now, from these data, to make an esti- 
mate of man — to interpret the word man in the 
light of these facts. He is the supreme fact, from 



What is Man? 157 

which all nature takes its significance. Coming 
into him, all inanimate objects become conscious, 
take fire with intelligence, and are fused into sensi- 
bility; all facts and truths throb and glow within 
him. 

Then, upon all these as data, reason falls to work 
with its methods, tearing down and building up, 
until a new creation — the world of science, of art, 
of poetry, of society, of organized labor and enter- 
prise — rises from the plastic hand of man. 

Consciousness, in one analysis of it, may be given 
in two terms: it consists of susceptibilities and powers. 
Both are involved in what has been already stated, 
especially the former. The susceptibilities are ca- 
pacity of receiving; the powers, capacity of doing. 
When objects come into the mind, it is not only 
receptive of them, but reacts upon them. Coming 
into it, the mind vitalizes them, as it is enlarged by 
them. Thus greatened by them, its own life is aug- 
mented, and this life is self-active; it moves by a 
momentum arising in itself; it is endowed with a 
causative energy; it is an originating force, which 
acts upon nature, and yet more largely upon spirit. 
Man is constituted not only to receive and enjoy, 
but also to act, to achieve, to give out results from 
himself — results that shall be the equivalent, in 
scope and value, of all that he takes in. The soul 
is not only the alembic of the wondrous alchemy 
whereby stones come into life, but it is a power, de- 
livering itself upon events and shaping destinies; 
it has purposes to carry into effect, hopes to fulfill, 
an ambitious thirst to satiate; it has, also, energies 



158 What is Man? 

adjusted to these ends; it has its own battles to fight, 
its own wants to satisfy, its own footing to secure, 
amid the powers and activities of the universe. 

Nor do his activities terminate upon himself. 
Whether he will or not, he is so vitally related to 
others that the forces proceeding from him take ef- 
fect, for weal or woe, on them; he contributes to 
the sum of good, or swells the tide of evil, as his 
own character and enterprises may be of this class 
or that. 

In this self-adjusting energy of man is found the 
fact of character. As he takes attitude and relation 
to the law of right, is he, in himself, good or evil. 
All that is in consciousness, in the case of any per- 
son, may take on the taint and infection of moral 
evil, and constitute an odious presence and a malig- 
nant force among the works of God. The most 
brilliant intelligence, seen through the medium of a 
base moral nature, diffuses a lurid glare, like sun- 
shine struggling through the smoke of a volcano ; 
it touches nothing with beauty, warms nothing into 
life; its affections and passions are a suffocating, 
infectious heat, breeding only mildew and vermin. 

I invite you again to pause, and from these ad- 
ditional data to make your estimate of man, not 
forgetting that this same capacity of will, on which 
character hinges, may be the point of departure up- 
ward as well as downward. It is no mere Utopia to 
which I turn your eyes. In yourself are the condi- 
tions of a moral attainment that shall be spotless as 
the robe of a seraph, and diffusive of life and bless- 
edness through all the circle of your loves. 



What is Man? 159 

I should be derelict to the obligations imposed by 
such a theme if I should fail to remind you that 
man, with all these capacities, these susceptibilities 
and powers — with all this breadth, and depth, and 
intensity of consciousness — is immortal; this vital 
substance, aggregating in itself, and vitalizing and 
incorporating into itself, as the contents of con- 
sciousness, the multitudinous objects of knowledge, 
is indestructible. 

The sun is but a spark of fire, 

A transient meteor in the sky; 
The soul, immortal as its Sire, 
Can never die! 

With every vital fact that has become part of its 
knowledge and gone into feeling, it will live for- 
ever; in its proper character, good or bad, it will 
live forever; in destinies celestial or infernal — desti- 
nies of its own making, destinies that are the out- 
growth and issue of character — it must live forever! 

We have the authority of the word of God for 
saying that in the world to come consciousness will 
be greatly augmented. Both susceptibilities and 
powers will be brought to a higher state. "low 
we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: 
now I know in part; but then shall I know even as 
also I am known." 

What capacity of knowledge we shall there have 
we cannot now imagine. " It doth not yet appear 
what we shall be; but we know that, when he shall 
appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him 
as he is." What an assurance! We shall be like 
our Lord. I make no doubt that we shall be able 



160 What is Man? 

to gain more knowledge in one hour there than in a 
life-time here. One glance will give us a deeper 
insight into the arcana of truth than the accumu- 
lated observation of ages will reach in this world. 
Perception and memory will be perfect, the under- 
standing enlarged, and store of knowledge will be 
laid in so rapidly, and received with such perfect 
grasp, that our mental acquisitions in this life will 
seem as nothing. 

Then the resurrection body is to be "fashioned 
like unto Christ's glorious body." That body was 
so ethereal when he ascended as to respond to an 
inward momentum upon which it not only over- 
came the force of gravitation, but swept up through 
the highest heavens to the very throne. With such 
bodies we shall be "free of the universe." They 
will be " spiritual bodies." " There is a natural body, 
and there is a spiritual body." It will be a body — 
not a spirit — but all grossness will be so eliminated, 
and the material so sublimated, as to be a sort of 
spiritualized matter. This body will be the vehicle 
of spiritual activities in that world. How respon- 
sive it will be to spiritual impulsions! Like the 
body of Jesus, after which it is modeled, it will 
doubtless be swept forward by the inward force, 
and, independent of atmospheres or temperatures, 
traverse void spaces and reach remotest worlds at 
will. 

Shall not every saved man explore the universe? 
What else can satisfy the thirst for knowledge? 
And with the increased capacity will there not be 
increased thirst? Doubtless; but thirst evermore 



What is Man? 161 

sinking itself in luxurious access to the very fount- 
ains, with, eternity before it. Will not the universe 
be explored at last, and the phenomena of every 
world appropriated by the individual understand- 
ing? Why should we doubt it? 

Then all the phenomena of all the worlds will 
reappear in the individual understanding ; then 
cosmos will be duplicated in the consciousness of one 
man! All material nature in all worlds, with all 
its laws, and processes, and events, will become the 
contents of consciousness. 

With these accumulations of knowledge, and 
equivalent augmentation of personal power, what 
may not a man achieve in the activities of his im- 
mortal destiny? More: when the universe as it 
now is shall have been appropriated, who may 
know that there will not be new creations — enlarg- 
ing fields for exploration? 

I declare to you that I do solemnly believe that 
such are the capacities and the possibilities of des- 
tiny in human nature that if God had intended to 
create but one man, the creation of the whole uni- 
verse just for him would have been justified. 
The presence of a single man would have been 
an end adequate to the outlay. How much more 
the existence of the countless multitudes of our 
race! 

I speak with deliberation when I say that the re- 
covery of only one lost man would have been a 
result worthy of the incarnation and sacrifice of 
the Son of God. 

My proposition is vindicated. Man is indeed 



162 What is Man? 

such a being as, a priori, we might well expect God 
to be mindful of, and to visit. 

With the understanding bringing the facts of in- 
animate nature into consciousness, reason at work 
upon the crude mass in the understanding, with the 
esthetic faculty and sensibilities raising every fact 
to the plane of life, with the power of volition, with 
moral relations and moral character formed by him- 
self, with eternity and the scope of the universe for 
acquisition anfl achievement, must not man be an 
object of high interest even with Him who is the 
Proprietor of the universe? 

Such is man; or, more properly, a running and 
most imperfect sketch of the more important ele- 
ments of his being. From such facts alone can 
any true estimate of him be made. 

I said, some time ago, that my chief quarrel with 
men was that they underrate themselves. Not that 
there is any lack of pride — you can never go amiss 
for that; from the scavenger to the millionaire, it 
pervades all classes ; it struts, with well-aifected 
magnificence, in the cabin of the field-hand, and 
presides, with better grace indeed, and more pol- 
ished manners, over the hospitalities of the man- 
sion. I have seen the boot-black, servile and hum- 
ble as he is when he supplicates your patronage, 
stiffen himself among his fellows, as he made a 
pompous parade of his pocketful of postal-currency, 
with an air of triumph and a swagger that would 
do credit to the most consummate swell on Broad- 
way. 

!N"o; there is no lack of pride. But, alas! the 



What is Man? 163 

very occasions that call it into play are in proof of 
the low estimate "which men place upon themselves. 
They are proud of accidents which, with any just 
sense of the dignity and value of their nature, 
would go for nothing. 

One man is proud of ancestral prestige; another 
is purse-proud, until every muscle acquires a sort of 
metallic rigidity. Any incident or accident which 
differences a man from his neighbor is a sufficient 
basis of self-consciousness. I have had in my eye 
at the same moment a fop and a peacock, display- 
ing their fine plumage, as nearly as I could judge, 
with about equal satisfaction — and certainly the 
bird made the better display; besides, his feathers 
were his own. 

When a man realizes the import of his being, in 
its great capacities and powers — its almost infinite 
receptivity, the scope of possible development; in 
its exquisite sensibilities and inexpressible activi- 
ties; in all that is actual and all that is potential in 
him; his being, as it is driven forward and directed 
by the momentum of an internal force; as it takes 
tone and character under a divine law, and solves 
the problem of destiny for itself; in its relation to 
God and eternity — when he realizes this truly and 
adequately, the littlenesses of a frivolous pride will 
vanish. These momentous facts, duly felt, will set- 
tle him in an earnest purpose too engrossing to al- 
low room for evanescent puerilities. 

The present conditions of existence necessitate a 
large appropriation of time, and thought, and labor, 
to affairs which are in themselves trivial, and acquire 



164 What is Man? 

dignity and value only as they are related to life in 
its sustentation and development. Collecting food 
and clothing, building houses, carrying on affairs — 
if action ultimated in these things, and consum- 
mated itself in them, terminating and perishing 
there — would be nothing more than humiliating 
squirrel's work and beaver's work, carried on with 
infinite concern and grotesque solemnity. But they 
are much more and better than that: they are 
man's commissariat, his means of supply, in the 
grand campaign of the present, in which he carries 
on the invasion and conquest of the future and the 
infinite. 

Indeed, these very employments, low and trivial 
as they must be, in themselves considered, are the 
drill and discipline which prepare us for that which 
is ultimate in pursuit and achievement. Even the 
stress of physical want is sometimes a requisite spur 
to the sluggish mental nature. If Johnson had never 
been hungry, we should never have seen the "Dic- 
tionary," nor the "Earn bier," nor "Easselas." If 
Goldsmith had been a lord, the "Deserted Village" 
would never have been peopled with images of po- 
etic beauty; the good "Vicar of Wakefield" would 
have said no wise things for our edification, and 
clone no foolish ones for our entertainment. 

But the employments of the present, even the 
humblest of them, while they provide food, train 
also the higher faculties. Intellect is developed as 
the power of analysis is called into requisition. 
Character is formed. High sentiments of integrity 
and honor are cultivated by the rustic while he cul- 



What is Man? 165 

tivates his potatoes. The domestic virtues are vitally 
complicated with the commonest cares and lowliest 
labors. Character is tested and evolved by the many 
exigences and temptations of business. The temper 
of immortal steel is tried upon the hard conditions 
of existence. The affairs of life are the arena in 
which thrones of eternity are won or lost. 

Something more than corn and cotton, then, w T ill 
appear as the product of common toil. The choice 
of employment, agricultural, mechanical, profes- 
sional, mercantile, though not matter of indiffer- 
ence, is yet of less moment than the spirit and aim 
with which our work shall be done. Taste and apt- 
itude must govern the selection. Then, if applica- 
tion and industry bring nothing more than daily 
bread, fall back upon the boundless resources of 
the soul, and assure yourself that in a cultivated 
intellect, a pure life, and generous affections, there 
is a capital of higher value than the best stocks in 
Wall street. If you make money, use it for high 
ends. Above all things, never become sordid. The 
soul that collapses upon a dollar is in most pitiable 
plight. Money hoarded to gratify an avaricious 
propensity, or spent in mere sensual indulgence, is 
a curse ; money used to extend the domain of 
knowledge and virtue is a blessing of high value. 
In all labor, and in all accumulation, character is 
formed, good or bad. All activities ultimate in 
character, and become permanent there; and it is 
character that makes destiny. Industry, integrity, 
honor, faith, charity — let these constitute the staple 
of character. Then, with a cultivated mind, great 



166 What is Man? 

store of knowledge, large accumulation of the ob- 
jective in consciousness, the material vitalized in 
thought, and becoming part and parcel of yourself, 
reason wielding, molding, shaping all, and will im- 
pelling the accumulated, living, potential entity 
upon the track of high pursuit — the whole man, 
thus greatened and thus vital, delivering himself 
w T ith Titanic power upon events — will you begin 
to realize the purpose of your creation. 

In such a view the drudgery of life is exalted out 
of its baseness, baffled exertions are compensated, 
the disappointed hopes of the patriot find noble 
consolation, and "victory is organized out of de- 
feat." 

But, after all, humanity never half realizes itself 
until it contemplates itself in the light of God. 
The disclosures of the Christian revelation alone 
reveal the full significance of life. 

I dismiss you, young gentlemen, to the future. 
Some of you, after the brief pleasures of vacation, 
will return to your classes for farther drill and dis- 
cipline. Mental muscle is to be developed, hard- 
ened, and brought to more perfect skill in the evo- 
lutions, and in handling the implements, of the 
coming combat. The preparatory training may 
seem irksome, but it is requisite. Others will de- 
part from this scene, and from this hour, immedi- 
ately to the heat and hurry of the fray. 

There is no more thrilling spectacle than that of 
a young man, conscious of power, and fall of am- 
bitious aims and generous impulses, standing at the 
door of life's opportunities, with one foot already 



What is Man? 167 

advanced upon the threshold, flushed with hope 
and full of confidence. Little knows he the tests 
of skill and strength that will so soon put him to 
the proof. Without prescience of impending tem- 
pests, he takes his measures. What revelations will 
he made to him in the next five years! Happy will 
be he, indeed, if, with the invincible instinct of can- 
dor and sincerity, he shall understand, as he sees 
successive hopes drift to their wreck, that nothing 
is lost while honor and faith remain ! 

This platform will be the point of departure for 
many a puissant spirit to its place in the arena and 
its part in the contest, to take higher or lower rank, 
on this side or that, in the forces of good and evil, 
evermore at deadly feud amongst men. May not 
one of you be false to his God, his country, to man- 
kind, to truth, or to himself! Abjure all tainted 
laurels. Let no meretricious chaplet, Avon in a bad 
cause, proclaim your title to eminent dishonors. 
Count not mere success a virtue. The defeated 
champion of the right is yet master of a domain 
that will yield more princely revenues than the 
empire of mischief. The utmost disaster is in suc- 
cessful wrong-doing. The trappings of the bad 
triumph conceal but for a moment the eternal in- 
famy with which all lies and shams are branded. 

All actual success is realized within. The true 
domain is consciousness. The limit of its possible 
enlargement, as it takes in and vitalizes the object- 
ive, is the boundary of the universe. Greateued by 
knowledge, and ennobled bv truth, a man mav well 
afford to lauffh at thrones. 



168 What is Man? 

In the mountain Moses met God; from the inter- 
view his face became luminous. 

Go up! from the baseness of depraved appetency, 
through the cloud and thick darkness of sensuality 
and pride, go up! In the self-abnegation of repent- 
ance, in faith and prayer, ascend those heights where 
men meet God. From intercourse with him the 
spirits of the just become radiant with ineffable 
light. 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 169 



Wxt Sato of jtytritaal thrift. 



SERMON V.* 

"For I say unto you, That unto every one which hath shall 
be given ; and from him that hath not, even that he hath shall 
be taken away from him." Luke xix. 26. 

THIS text, in substance, occurs in several places 
in the Gospels. In the place from which I 
have taken it now it stands in connection with the 
parable of the pounds. The meaning and force of 
it arise out of the parable. A. brief exposition of 
the parable, therefore, is pertinent and necessary as 
a preparation for the doctrine of the text. 

This parable was suggested by the circumstances 
of the hour in which it was delivered. Our Lord 
was in the house of Zaccheus, at Jericho, on his way 
to Jerusalem. The hospitalities of the day gave 
rise to instructive conversation. Passing from other 
topics, the Saviour " added and spake a parable, be- 
cause he was nigh to Jerusalem, and because they 

* Delivered January 15, 1871, on the occasion of the late 
Semi-centenary Celebration of Methodism in St. Louis. 
8 



170 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

thought that the kingdom of God should imme- 
diately appear." Thus we learn that two facts con- 
curred to suggest the parahle: first, his heing " nigh 
to Jerusalem;" and, secondly, his auditors — most of 
whom, no doubt, were his own disciples — "thought 
that the kingdom of God should immediately ap- 
pear." But what had these two particular facts to 
do with each other? and what was there in them to 
suggest this parable? We shall see. 

The parable has for its basis a king and a kingdom. 
The king is introduced before he receives the king- 
dom. Now, all this answers admirably to the thought 
that was in the mind of the disciples. They were 
looking for the kingdom of God to appear, and 
Christ himself they understood to be the King. 

The kingdom of God they understood to be 
nothing else than the Jewish nation governed by a 
native monarch; thus they interpreted the prophe- 
cies concerning Messiah. Christ they understood 
to be Messiah, who should "restore all things." It 
was the throne of David which had been lost to 
them, and which the promised Son of David should 
restore. The Roman invader was to be driven out 
by a descendant of David, and under his adminis- 
tration the nation would become once more what it 
was in the time of David and Solomon, and even 
greater. Jerusalem, of course, would be in their 
minds as the capital of the kingdom; it was the 
traditional capital. They therefore expected Christ 
to assert himself and assume the crown in Jerusalem. 
True, he had effected no secret organization of par- 
tisans, and had no apparent resources; but that 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 171 

would not stagger the faith of a Jew; he was im- 
bued with a history of miracles. Always, when 
God had undertaken for his people, the most stu- 
pendous results were produced from the most inad- 
equate agencies; lightnings, tempests, mysterious 
sounds in the tops of trees, supernatural fears in the 
hearts of their enemies, destroying angels, might 
well be looked for when the time of deliverance 
should come. 

That it was only the civil administration (to be set 
up, indeed, by divine interposition) that the disciples 
looked for, in the kingdom of God to be established 
by Christ, is apparent from many considerations. 
They even quarreled among themselves beforehand 
about the offices, and the mother of two of them 
went so far as to solicit in form the two chief offices 
for her sons. 

We may well believe, then, that whenever Jesus 
went down from Galilee to Jerusalem, the capital, 
his followers were all agog about the kingdom; 
they were breathless for the denouement. 

At the time of which we now speak he was on 
his way to Jerusalem, and w T as at Jericho, near the 
end of his journey. The disciples were with him, 
agitated with great expectations. What might not 
a day bring forth? John the Baptist had preached 
"the kingdom is at hand,-" the Saviour himself had 
announced it at hand, and had sent seventy men 
through all the country to herald the advent of the 
kingdom, and to proclaim it already now at hand; 
and here is the King, with his immediate adherents, 
on his way to Jerusalem. May he not clothe him- 



172 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

self with power now, to-morrow, and, by all signs, 
and wonders, and supernatural agents, destroy Pi- 
late, annihilate the Roman garrison, and reign at 
once in righteousness and terror? Then will these 
poor fishermen appear in chief places about his per- 
son, and become partakers of his honor. 

Of such thoughts their minds were full, and in 
these circumstances the parable was given. Be- 
cause he was nigh to Jerusalem, and because they 
thought that the kingdom of God should immedi- 
ately appear, he spoke this parable concerning a 
king and a kingdom. You see how naturally the 
narrative of the parable grew out of present facts. 

But this narrative, while it answered to the mis- 
conception of facts on the part of the disciples, on 
one side, on the other reflects, also, the true character 
of the King, and cdso of the kingdom of God. 

"A certain nobleman went into a far country to 
receive for himself a kingdom, and to return." 
This statement presented a very familiar scene to 
those who heard it. They were subjects of the 
Roman empire, which embraced many kingdoms. 
The senate and emperor placed over these whomso- 
ever they would. Office -hunters, crown - seekers, 
from all over the world, flocked to Rome. Every 
Jew would think of the family of the Herods in 
this connection. Nor are we at a loss for illustrative 
facts. It was much like a man going up from Idaho 
Territory, or Montana, for instance, to Washington, 
to procure the appointment of Territorial Governor. 

Rome, like every other seat of power, was the 
theater of constant political intrigues. Ambitious 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 173 

men wore always seeking emolument, while others, 
also interested in the ease, would circumvent them. 
So this nobleman is followed by a message from the 
citizens of the country, who hated him, protesting 
against his appointment. Politics in those days, I 
take it, was just what it is now. 

While away from home, pushing forward his am- 
bitious projects, the nobleman must provide for the 
management of his affairs at home, so that his private 
fortune might not suffer. The method he pursued 
was to divide his money amongst his servants, and 
let each one make the most of the capital intrusted 
to him. "He called his ten servants, and delivered 
them ten pounds, and said unto them, Occupy till I 
come." That is, use this capital; trade with it; I 
trust to your fidelity, sagacity, and enterprise; make 
what you can. 

"And it came to pass, that when he was returned, 
having received the kingdom, then he commanded 
these servants to be called unto him, to whom he 
had given the money, that he might know how much 
every man had gained by trading." He had been 
successful in his aspirations, and had returned home 
a king. The first thing he did was to investigate 
accounts, and have a settlement with the men who 
had had his business in charge. With them the set- 
tlement was the more serious on account of the new 
dignity and power of their master. As a king he 
could reward more munificently and punish more 
heavily than as a private citizen, or even a common 
nobleman. It was a momentous occasion with these 
servants. 



174 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

This nobleman represents our Lord. He goes 
away to receive his kingdom; in his absence his af- 
fairs are intrusted to his servants; when he returns 
with the sovereign dignity and power, he calls 
them to account for the trusts they held. How 
strikingly this represents the ascent of Jesus, his 
long absence, his rich estate on earth (that is, the 
gospel and the Church) in the hands of his servants 
the while, and his second coming, when " every one 
of us shall give account of himself to God! " Nor is 
the hatred of the citizens wanting to complete the 
parallel: they will not have this man to reign over 
them. 

" Then came the first, saying, Lord, thy pound 
hath gained ten pounds." A very large increase! 
A grand result! The capital is multiplied in the 
hands of this man by ten in a comparatively short 
time. There is proof not only of fidelity, bnt of 
capacity and enterprise; there have been much 
hard work and much painstaking attention. The 
Lord is well pleased with this servant. "And he 
said unto him, Well, thou good servant: because 
thou hast been faithful in a very little, have thou 
authority over ten cities." 

Let it be remembered that this man has just now 
become a king. The responsibility of sovereign 
administration is upon him; the peace and interests 
of his government are to be provided for; he must 
proceed at once to organize the general and munici- 
pal administration; he must find trustworthy men 
for responsible positions. These men must be both 
faithful and capable. 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 175 

He has called to account this good servant, and 
finds the most gratifying proofs of good sense and 
fidelity. He has it in his power to secure a twofold 
object — that is, first to reward a faithful servant, 
and also to secure a good officer of his government. 
This man is capable of large affairs; he may safely 
be intrusted with the municipal administration of a 
district embracing ten cities. The emoluments and 
revenues of a jurisdiction so considerable will be an 
ample reward of past services. So the king re- 
wards his servant munificently, and yet in such a 
manner as still to serve his own ends. 

The second has gained five pounds, and is ap- 
pointed over five cities. The same general principle 
controls the reward in this as in the first case; but 
this farther is to be remarked: the reward is in the 
■proportion of the success in business. Ten pounds, ten 
cities; five pounds, five cities. A district embrac- 
ing ^ve cities would be large, and yield a handsome 
revenue. It is a very full acknowledgment of a very 
fine result — an increase of Rve upon one. Both the 
service and reward are up to a most respectable 
standard. But why not give him ten cities as well 
as the other? Because, first, he is to be rewarded 
according to what he has done; and, secondly, it 
does not appear that he is capable of affairs so ex- 
tensive. He has not the capacity of the other, as 
the test has discovered. The results of a fair op- 
portunity must decide the merits and capacity of 
the man; he is elevated to the full extent, and only 
to the extent, which the results of the test justify. 

Is there, in all this, a hint not only as to degrees, 



176 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

but as to the very nature, of the heavenly reward? 
If so, it would seem to follow that the heavenly so- 
ciety is organized. Perhaps governments on earth 
give some hint of the nature of that organization. 
There is one archangel, and we read of princedoms, 
thrones, and powers. Are these so many grades of 
dignity and authority in celestial government? The 
apostles are to sit on twelve thrones, judging the 
twelve tribes of Israel. The saints are to judge 
angels. It is clear that the heavenly society is not 
just a collection of unorganized individuals, under 
the immediate control of God, but that he governs 
mediately, through subordinate powers. 

There need be no concern about employments in 
heaven. There will be ample scope for the largest 
and most unresting natures; there will be affairs 
to carry on; there will be events to shape, combi- 
nations to effect, interests to pursue, destinies to 
achieve — all pure, without doubt, and free from 
corrupt ambitions and vexatious rivalries ; but 
with what effect puissant spirits in that world may 
deliver themselves upon events, who can tell? By 
what combinations may some Wesley bring into 
events even there a God-honoring idea! 

Are the awards of eternity to be made somehow 
after this sort? If not, what does this side of the 
parable mean? 

After these two good servants came a third, 
whose pound had gained nothing. He had not 
squandered it, nor lost it; he had been very careful 
of it; he had kept it from thieves; he "laid it up;" 
he had kept it from exposure, clean and bright, "in 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 177 

a napkin." But he had gained nothing — that is, he 
had failed of the specific object of the trust. The 
very purpose for which it was placed in his hands 
was that lie should trade with it and make it pro- 
ductive. 

But he had become moody, and indulged sinister 
reflections upon the character of his lord. He be- 
came suspicious and evil-minded, as worthless men 
who know they have an account to render are sure 
to do. "I feared thee, because thou art an austere 
man: thou takest up that thou layedst not down, 
and reapest that thou didst not sow." Thus he ex- 
cused himself. But his lord replied: " Out of thine 
own mouth will I judge thee, thou wicked servant. 
Thou knewest that I was an austere man, taking 
up that I laid not down, and reaping that I did not 
sow: wherefore then gavest not thou my money 
into the bank, that at my coming I might have re- 
quired mine own with usury?" 

I do not understand that he admitted in fact the 
allegations of the servant, but only for the argu- 
ment, to confound him from his own premises. If 
I am such a man, still you were my servant, and as 
such, having accepted this trust from, me, it was 
your duty to act upon my methods ; or, at the 
very least, you might have put it in the bank, where 
it would be on interest, so that I might have some 
advantage of your service. But you have done 
nothing; you are absolutely ivorthless. 

S"ow observe, this man's fault was that he had 
done nothing — not that he had done some wrong thing. 
He had simply done nothing. But his lord charac- 
8* 



178 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

terizes him by a very strong epithet — thou wicked 
servant! Does this represent him in too had a light? 
No! for this reason: he was a servant. The duty 
of the servant is to render service. This is the fun- 
damental law of the relation. The servant that 
performs no service violates the very relation in 
which he stands, and defeats the purposes of it. 
Not to do is the capital vice of the servant. The 
indignant master, upon discovery of the fact, can 
do no less than upbraid him with the term wicked. 
So far as the relation of the two to each other goes, 
he is most wicked. 

The penalty follows. " Take from him the pound, 
and give it to him that hath ten pounds." He is not 
to be trusted farther. The pound in his hands will 
accomplish nothing ; take it from him ; take it and 
give it to some one that will handle it to advantage. 
Give it to him that hath ten pounds; he is tried; he 
will make something of it. 

But the by-standers expostulated: " Lord, he hath 
ten pounds." Why give any thing more to him, to 
swell his enormous gains? He does not need it. 
Why not give it to some needy man? or at least to 
this one who has jive pounds, to put him forward 
somewhat toward the highest standard? Why not? 
Why, because I put my money with those who make 
the best use of it. That is why! 

"For I say unto you, That unto every one which 
hath shall be given; and from him that hath not, 
even that he hath shall be taken away from him." 

This is the text which I announced at the outset. 
Yon see how closely it is related to the parable. Its 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 179 

meaning comes from the parable; and we are now 
prepared to consider the doctrine which it contains. 

I remember that in my youth this text troubled 
me. "To him that hath shall be given: from him 
that hath not shall be taken away." It sounded 
harsh to me. It seemed to favor the prosperous, 
and trample upon those who were in adversity. It 
grated upon my sensibilities. 

But later I saw things in a better light. I wor- 
ship Christ in every aspect of his character. I 
worship him as the Incarnate Truth. He never 
disguised the truth — never modified nor moderated 
his utterance of it to accommodate the frailty of 
my ear. The truth is often rugged, and the Lord 
gave it ever just as it is; he never hewed it into 
more acceptable shapes; he never paused to know 
what reception men would give it, or by what criti- 
cism they might judge it; he delivered just the 
naked truth, and left it to vindicate itself, as it al- 
ways will in the end. This text stands fully vindi- 
cated in its own light, and in the light of all philos- 
ophy and observation. 

You will observe that it is not just the mere having 
or not having that our Lord approves or condemns, 
but having or not having after the opportunity of ac- 
quiring has been enjoyed. A pound has been in- 
trusted to each one, and time allowed for commer- 
cial enterprises. After this opportunity of acquisition, 
having or not having is decisive of character; it 
shows just what the man is, so far as business is 
concerned. This is a capital point, one on which 
the meaning of the place hinges; let it not be lost 



180 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

sight of. What is praised on the one hand and 
blamed on the other is not the fact of having or 
not having, abstractly taken. It is the history of 
the case that gives it its significance. The original 
trust contemplated increase; this was the motive 
of it; this was the end in view in putting out the 
pound. Failure in this was the only sin against the 
law of the transaction. Having or not having, then, 
after the opportunity of acquiring has been enjoyed, is 
the matter of praise or blame. What is contem- 
plated is character as it stands in the light of oppor- 
tunity. 

In the declaration of the text our Lord only £>os- 
tulates a universal law of life. The law is this: The 

UNIFORM AND NECESSARY TENDENCY OF THRIFT TO GREATER 
AND GREATER PROSPERITY, AND THE EQUALLY UNIFORM 
AND NECESSARY TENDENCY OF WORTHLESSNESS TO DEEPER 
AND STILL DEEPER PENURY. 

This law prevails everywhere; it is in all life; it 
is inexorable; there is no escape from it; in the 
lowest and in the highest forms of life it is always 
present, always prevalent. Thrift always goes on 
to larger and larger acquisition, and worthlessness 
to deeper and more abject penury. Every acquisi- 
tion increases resources and facilities of farther ac- 
quisition, and all downward movement tends to 
more rapid descent. Prosperity augments by a 
twofold force — the arithmetical force, by which 
profit going into capital increases evermore the 
ratio of gain to the first investment; and the per- 
sonal force, the knowledge gained by experience 
and facility acquired by habit. The same forces 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 181 

are operative in the reverse direction in the case of 
the worthless, thriftless man. Then, too, what is 
scattered hy the trifler the other gathers up. To 
him that hath is given; from him that hath not is 
taken away — taken from him and given to the 
other. 

I have said that this law is universal, that it is 
prevalent in all life, from the lowest to the highest 
forms of it. To show how true this is, let me give 
you some illustrative facts. 

When I was a boy there was upon the north end 
of our homestead tract a thicket of perhaps a 
quarter of a mile in extent. It was bisected by a 
neighborhood road. It was so dense as to seem a 
very mass of bushes. It was next to impossible, in 
places, for a boy to push through it, as I know from 
many experiments; but upon my first visit to the 
"old place" after the war I was quite amazed to 
find the "thicket" transformed into an open young 
forest, consisting of small trees at good distances 
from each other, the spaces between being entirely 
open. How has this come about? The answer is 
at hand. The larger bushes grew into trees, and 
the smaller, in the course of time, all died. 

By what process? Clearly this: the bushes that 
made the best progress the first year had a great 
advantage for the second. Here is one, for instance, 
that in the first year grew to twice the size of its 
neighbors. Xow, it has twice the resources for the 
next year's growth ; it has twice the number of 
rootlets gathering nutrition through their innumer- 
able points, and twice as many leaves to inhale car- 



182 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

bon. A year hence it will be four times the size 
of the others. So the larger ones, outgrowing the 
others, had continually a larger ratio of advantage, 
and became masters of the situation. The smaller 
ones were at last overtopped, shaded, choked. Their 
masterful neighbors monopolized soil, and atmos- 
phere, and sunshine. They struggled along for a 
few years in a growth of ever-lessening ratio to that 
of the more prosperous ones, their hold upon life 
becoming more and more feeble. At last their 
lordly neighbors had so completely appropriated the 
conditions of life that they perished. They died, 
and went to fatten the soil for the others; they suf- 
fered the universal penalty of not having — the pen- 
alty of the thriftless. What they had was taken 
away, and given to the prosperous. 

The law obtains at this lowest point of vital phe- 
nomena, in the sphere of vegetation; it appears 
also in animal life — the strongest monopolize the 
pasture. 

It dominates business -life. Two youths were 
taken together into a store, on equal footing. At 
the end of a year one was dismissed, and the salary 
of the other doubled. The one was careless, dila- 
tory, stupid; his services were of no value. The 
other, sprightly, thoughtful, alert, painstaking, in- 
dustrious, became invaluable to his employers. The 
one gained nothing, and what he had — his salary — 
was taken away; the services of the other were 
productive, and what was taken from the first was 
given to him. The one struggled on through a life 
of poverty, while the other went up to a partner- 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 183 

ship, and at last to the chief position in a powerful 
firm. 

Two young men in the country — sons of well-to- 
do citizens — married the same autumn. The father 
of each gave him a quarter section of excellent land, 
with a house, and teams, and implements for farm- 
ing. Their advantages were ahout equal; their 
farms were adjoining. Twenty years later one of 
them owned both the farms, and the other was a 
miserable renter, living in a hovel upon one corner 
of the tract he had once owned. The one was thrifty, 
attentive, frugal, industrious, and soon began to lend 
money; the other was careless, extravagant, and 
lazy, and soon began to be a borrower. In a few 
years his neighbor held a mortgage upon his real 
estate, and then a few years later, at the inevitable 
end of the process, held the estate in fee. Worth- 
lessness went on to the utmost depths of penury, 
and saw the hand of Thrift grasp all it had. " Take 
from him the pound, and give it to him that hath 
ten pounds." 

Examples might be given from all the trades, pro- 
fessions, and employments. The law holds in all ; it 
holds, also, in all corporations and societies. Wher- 
ever vital forces are at work this law is supreme. 
Corporate life is as much subject to it as individual 
life; it rules the world; its rewards and punish- 
ments are seen everywhere, and felt by all. 

It controls in the acquisition of knowledge and in 
mental development. There is a species of mental 
thrift, which leads to acquisition in an ever-increas- 
ing ratio; there is also the converse — a mental thrift- 



184 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

lessness, that mopes on through life in effeminacy 
and ignorance, in intellectual penury, in an ever- 
increasing ratio of disparity with the former. You 
may tell from the habits of two boys at school how 
an increasing difference will characterize them, and 
contrast them more and more strongly to the end of 
life. 

But does this law reach the spiritual plane? Yea, 
verily. Thrift in spiritual riches is no more ob- 
tained without labor than in anj^ other. "Worth- 
lessness here goes down into penury as surely as in 
any other sphere. All holy affections — faith, and 
conscience, and love, and hope, and purity — grow 
by faithfulness. Power over temptation comes of 
watchfulness and prayer. Height of heavenly con- 
templation increases more and more through medi- 
tation and habitual communion with God. Heavenly 
knowledge is gathered by devout study of the word 
of God. Power in prayer grows by the habit of 
earnest prayer. Self-renunciation opens the soul to 
all divin e treasures. Cross-bearing develops spiritual 
muscle. Religion, as it is subjective in conscious- 
ness, is capable of indefinite, if not infinite, increase. 
the depth of these riches ! But the vain, the self- 
indulgent, the fashionable, the mercenary, party- 
loving, theater-going, worldly professor will never 
attain unto it; such are doomed to the poverty of a 
mere husky form. The soul preoccupied by worldly 
vanities has no room for heavenly treasures; the 
heart exercised so greatly by carnal enterprises 
makes no increase of spiritual goods. 

In the objective results of Christian labor increase 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 185 

is equally certain, and perhaps more apparent. By 
the time a man has brought a hundred souls to 
Christ, his "sons in the gospel" have, in the aggre- 
gate, done fifty times as much, perhaps; to the end 
of time the results will multiply. Through great 
labor and self-denial a man establishes and carries 
on a Sunday-school in a neglected neighborhood; 
at the end of twenty years, one useful preacher and 
fifty successful Sunday-school workers have gone 
from under his hand, and a thousand souls are 
saved. In the meantime, the spiritual sluggard, 
barren and unhappy in his own experience, has 
been an incubus upon the activities and enterprises 
of the Church; impoverishment, rather than en- 
richment, has resulted from his life. 

But there is an aspect of this matter which must 
awaken concern in every thoughtful mind. The 
Lord has gone up on high to enter upon his king- 
dom, and will come again in power and great glory. 
In the meantime, he has put the riches of the gospel 
in trust with his servants. The increase of the gos- 
pel, in personal life and at large in the world, de- 
pends upon our fidelity and enterprise. Through the 
activity of his people the gospel becomes reproduc- 
tive. "A dispensation of the gospel" is committed 
to each one of us. In our hands the grace of God 
will prosper by our activity and fidelity ; or, by our 
neglect, by our stupidity and carelessness, we shall 
prove ourselves unworthy of the trust with which 
our Saviour has honored us, and all the riches of 
grace will be unproductive in our possession. 

What an opportunity is ours ! This holy capital 



186 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

put into our hands consists of the fact of the Incarna- 
tion, the blood of Jesus, the Comforter which is the 
Holy Ghost, all the provisions of grace, all the riches 
of incarnate love. The merchandise of it is " par- 
don, and holiness, and heaven." All that a soul may 
enjoy of God here, all that countless millions made 
perfect may know and enjoy in eternity, comes of 
the faithful discharge of this trust. What a pity, 
what a shame, that such capital should be idle ! that 
such holy, divine riches should not be in the way of 
heavenly merchandise, multiplying to eternal life! 
Yet, how many there are who have "laid it up in 
a napkin!" They are idle — absolutely idle; they 
impoverish themselves to actual starvation, and 
wrong the Master by suffering his money to lie in- 
active. There are infinite possibilities of increase in 
the "pound," if it were only in the way of trade in 
diligent hands; tens of thousands would bless you 
in heaven forever for the riches that would come of 
it; but there you hide it — you, icorthless servant that 
you are — you have laid it away where it cannot be 
productive at all, defeating the most gracious pur- 
pose of the trust. The kingdom of God suffers ir- 
reparable loss by you; you have proved yourself 
unworthy of the trust. 

The Lord will come again, and when he comes he 
will reckon with us; he will see whether we have 
honored our trust or not. When the reward of 
faithful labor shall appear, and the idle miscreant 
be stripped of his pound, "let no man take thy 

crown." 

The text teaches farther: The turpitude of negli- 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 187 

gence in the solemn trusts of religion, and the 
dreadful displeasure of the great Proprietor, who 
will bring to a just and fearful retribution every 
guilty delinquent. 

Vain will all excuses be then. The trifler may 
amuse himself with plausible pretexts now, but the 
guilty sophistry will be confounded upon its own 
premises at last. Not to fulfill the conditions of the 
trust is to violate faith; it is to relinquish honor; it 
damages the Proprietor; it is wicked; it must be 
punished. 

The unprofitable servant is punished; he is put to 
shame publicly; he is dishonored, degraded from 
service, and proclaimed untrustworthy. What he 
has is taken away, and he is left to perish. 

There is a solemn lesson for Churches as well as 
individuals in the text. It applies, as I have already 
said, in corporate as well as individual life. As fully 
implied in the text, and as bearing on the character 
and destiny of Churches more particularly, I postu- 
late the following: 

No mere conservatism can maintain itself amid the 
active forces of society. 

Aggression is the law of active forces; it is the law 
of vital organism. Whatsoever adventures upon 
the fortunes of existence, amid the activities of the 
world, must propose somewhat beyond just merely 
holding its own. He who settles down just to take 
care of what he has will soon find that incessant 
movements on all sides of him have created exigen- 
ces that encroach at this point and that, incessantly, 
until disintegration — inevitable, irresistible — will do 



188 The Laic of Spiritual Thrift. 

its work. Only by enterprises that will repair the 
damage can he even so much as keep things to- 
gether. Mere defensive wars are failures. Resources 
are consumed more and more, until exhaustion is 
the result. Conservatism — that is, a mere defensive 
policy — has been the ruin of many an empire. In- 
anition supervenes upon inactivity, and inanition is 
death. 

In my early Christian life I was greatly impressed 
by a saying which I often heard from the old 
preachers: "There is no standing still in religion; 
if you are not going forward yon are going back- 
ward." It is true; it is solemnly true. In life 
nothing stands still, and any thing that undertakes 
it dies. Wherever there is not progression there is 
retrogression. This is true in individual experience. 
The actual encroachment of worldly tendencies, 
which are always active, will destroy the spiritual 
life unless it be maintained by a constant, earnest 
movement. 

It is equally true in aggregate Church-life, whether 
of single congregations or more extended or^aniza- 
tions. There are Churches now dying of conserva- 
tism — perishing from inactivity. Even unoccupied 
houses decay. Unused machinery in the weather 
rusts and goes to ruin. Titles fail from non-user. 
Men who go out of employment fall into prema- 
ture senility. Idle muscle loses activity and force. 
Commerce without enterprise dAvindles. Sluggish 
Churches decay. 

Congregations that have no revival -power lan- 
guish; the waste of death and removal is not re- 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 189 

paired. I have known instances where decadence 
went on to destruction. 

Churches that have no missionary zeal or spirit, 
that enter not into the great love of Christ for all 
mankiud, that partake not of his great labor for the 
salvation of the world, become dead, and disintegra- 
tion and decay tread upon the heels of death. The 
life of the Church is love — the love of God and the 
souls of men. And love delights in labor; it finds 
its joy in service. Where there is no labor there is 
no love, and in losing this the Church loses its life. 

The very business of the Church on earth is to 
propagate the Christian faith, to push forward the 
victories of the cross, to bring souls to God. Her 
very constitution contemplates aggressive enterprise. 
The " pound" — this precious, divine trust — has been 
committed to her for increase; her Lord looks to 
her for usury; the management of his estate is com- 
mitted to her; the souls that she does not win fall 
under the dominion of Satan. 

Any one Church that fails of the full measure of 
intelligent aggression will see others "take her 
crown;" or, w^orse, she will see the great adversary 
ravaging her Lord's vineyard, and the souls, for 
whom Christ died perishing on all sides. Depend 
upon it, such Churches will be visited in wrath. 
The pound will be taken from them, and given into 
more faithful hands; the vineyard will be let to hus- 
bandmen that w^ill return the fruit. 

At the close of the first half century of our ex- 
istence as a Church in St. Louis it well becomes us 
to investigate our affairs — to take account of stock. 



100 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

Can the Lord, with justice to his cause, and in mercy 
to souls, leave his pound with us? Is he likely to 
have ten pounds from it in the next decade? 

We have nothing to "boast of. We have not pros- 
pered in our divine merchandise up to the measure 
of our great opportunity; for we live at a great cen- 
ter of traffic, where the gain of our transactions 
ought to he tens where it is hut units. We can 
hardly dare to say to the Lord, "Thy pound hath 
gained five pounds;" certainly not ten. 

But God is gracious, and gives place of repent- 
ance. Certainly his treasury has been in some small 
measure augmented from St. Louis Methodism ; and 
(I cannot be mistaken) I see signs of new activity in 
trade. We enter upon a new term of our trustee- 
ship with a deeper sense of its solemn import. New 
activities are apparent in some directions. May the 
awe of God be upon us as we go forward into the 
fifty years in the door-way of which we stand to-day! 
As we handle his money, may a solemn sense of 
what its use imports take possession of our hearts! 

The sum of all is this: 

1. All things are placed in man's possession in 
crude forms. Here is soil and seed-corn; but much 
labor must intervene before there is bread. There 
are trees for timber, earth for brick, stones in the 
quarry, and ore in the mine; but there must be 
great enterprise and heavy work before there can be 
farms, houses, and cities. So in every thing: all 
values are latent till human agency brings them out. 
No less is this true in the gospel. The conditions of 
faith and salvation are given, but the result appears 



The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 191 

only as man deals with the conditions. Amid the 
opulence of nature man must famish unless, under 
his own hand, the crude conditions shall be wrought 
into shapes available for life; so, under the over- 
whelming munificence of saving mercies in the gos- 
pel, he must perish unless, by his own receptive and 
active agency, the conditions of spiritual life be 
brought into actual effect. Thus the gospel is com- 
mitted to the Church for the salvation of men. 

2. Every one of God's people is responsible for its 
full effect upon himself and for its dissemination 
amongst others. 

3. It prospers more in some hands than in others, 
both as to its effect on personal character and its 
diffusion. 

4. Some are so carnal, vain, frivolous, worldly, 
fashionable, and ease-loving, that the gospel gains 
nothing in their hands. 

5. The Lord will take it away from all such. 
Then will they be left to perish. 

6. Such as are truly wise and faithful will rejoice 
in fivefold, yea, even tenfold, increase in this world, 
and enter upon the possession of great dignities and 
rewards in the kingdom of Christ when he shall 
come in his glory. 

7. Churches that are inert, and project no great 
policies of conquest for the Lord, are doomed. 

8. The measure of aggressive labor performed by a 
Church will be the measure of its growth and power. 

9. Churches that are full of godly zeal will enter 
upon the forfeited possessions of such as are inert 
and unfaithful. 



192 The Law of Spiritual Thrift. 

10. It becomes us all, by prayer, by fasting, by 
labor, by self-denial, by consecration of mone}-, in 
self-abnegation, to seek the increase of Christ's king- 
dom. We are in the world only for this; for this end 
alone is it worth while to live at all; for this we 
ought to eat, and drink, and sleep, and wake, and 
rear children, and labor, and make money, and 
spend money, and watch, and fast, and pray. The 
full measure of our personal force must be delivered 
upon this point, if we expect to hear the Lord say, 
" Well, thou good servant: have thou authority over 
ten cities." 

May no man take our crown ! 



The Law and the Gospel. 193 



ihc laui and the §otytl 



SERMON VI.* 

" Do we then make void the law through faith ? God forbid : 
yea, we establish the law." Rom. iii. 31. 

THERE is very little of metaphysics in the Bible, 
and the little there is is nearly all in the Epis- 
tles of St. Paul; it is confined, almost exclusively, 
to one topic — justification by faith — and is intended 
chiefly to show that this doctrine does not conflict 
with the dignity and claims of the law. 

There is to this day much foggy and confused 
thinking upon this subject. The popular concep- 
tion of the matter seems to be about this: that the 
law is all mere justice and severity, and the gospel 
all mere graciousness. I think that young people 
almost always regard the law and the gospel as 
being in antagonism with each other; as if the law 
were eager to have possession of men to destroy 
them, and the gospel struggling to recover them 
from the grasp of the law to bless and save them. 

* Delivered before the Virginia Conference, Nov. 22, 1874. 
9 



194 The Law and the Gospel. 

This conception is wholly false. It js not true that 
the law is all severity, and the gospel all gracious- 
ness. On the contrary, the law, in one aspect of it, 
and, indeed, in its very nature and design, is as 
much an expression of the divine beneficence as the 
gospel is; and, on the other hand, the gospel, in one 
aspect of it, is as much an expression of the divine 
severity as the law. There is no contest over men 
between the law and the gospel ; they are in perfect 
harmony at all points. Faith does not make the 
law void, hut establishes it. 

To make this affirmation of the text good is the 
object of this Sermon. For this purpose it will be 
necessary to give, 

I. An analysis of the law, both as to its nature 
and functions. This done, we shall be prepared to 
enter directly upon the inquiry, Is the law made 
void by the gospel? 

1. The law is an assertion of the divine authority over 
intelligent creatures. I need not say that the law in 
question is the moral law. It embodies the will of 
the Creator with respect to the conduct of his creat- 
ures. 

2. The law is not only an assertion of the author- 
ity of God; it also postulates the ultimate truth with 
regard to moral relations. The divine will is not ca- 
pricious; it is coincident with the absolute truth. 

What is the law, reduced to its last statement? 
Moses gave a very close analysis of it in the Deca- 
logue; but Christ reduced it to the last analysis in 
that great saying, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy 
God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and 



The Law and the Gospel. 195 

with all thy mind. This is the first and great com- 
mandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou 
shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two 
commandments hang all the law and the prophets." 
" Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy 
heart, and thy neighbor as thyself," was not first said 
by Christ; it stands in the Old Testament Scriptures; 
but it was reserved to Christ to say, " This is the first 
and great commandment. And the second is like 
unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On 
these two commandments hang all the law and the 
prophets." That these statements of Christ con- 
cerning these two commandments are true, that all 
the law does indeed hang on them, will appear to 
any one who will take the pains to review the Ten 
Commandments. These commandments, given to 
Moses in the mount, are God's own synopsis of the 
law; they were written by his finger upon two ta- 
bles of stone. The first four were engraved on one 
table, and are called the commandments of the first 
table; the remaining six were engraved upon an- 
other, and are denominated the commandments of 
the second table. Examine these: "Thou shalt 
have no other gods before me;" "Thou shalt not 
make unto thee any graven image;" "Thou shalt 
not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain;" 
"Remember the Sabbath-day, to keep it holy." 
These commandments of the first table are against 
idolatry, against image-worship, against the profa- 
nation of the most holy I^ame, and require the con- 
secration of a fixed portion of time to the Creator. 
They all have respect to the duties we owe to God. 



196 The Law and the Gospel. 

Kow, tell me, if any man loves God with his whole 
heart, will he not keep all these? and if a man loves 
his neighbor as himself, will he not keep all the 
commandments of the second table, which forbid 
murder, theft, and all other acts injurious to a fel- 
low-creature? It is most true, indeed, that all the 
law is fulfilled in one word — love. He who loves 
God with all his strength, and his neighbor as him- 
self, will fulfill the law of his own nature in keeping 
the law of God. 

In this law of love is found the ultimate truth with 
regard to moral relations: where it is realized each 
individual cherishes the welfare of all others, and 
the full measure of his powers goes to swell the sum 
of universal good. The law, then, is not a mere 
capricious assertion of authority; it postulates the 
ultimate moral truth. 

But this proposition is not to be understood as in 
any degree mitigating the fact of the divine author- 
ity. If the will of God is coincident with ultimate 
truth, that will is no less sovereign and almighty in 
maintaining the law, which is itself, also, the truth. 
The majesty and magistracy of God must not be set 
aside by a vain philosophy. The law is the truth, 
given by divine legislation, and enforced by su- 
preme, executive, sovereign authority and power. 

3. The law is the utterance of the moral nature of God. 
Mr. Wesley called it a transcript of the divine mind; 
my proposition puts the same truth in other terms. 
The ultimate moral truth is subjective in God. In 
the law God simply utters himself as to his moral 
nature. "God is love," and "love is the fulfilling 



The Law and the Gospel. 197 

of the law," as we have already seen. Love is not, 
properly ; an attribute of God, but the very essence 
of his moral nature. The more deeply yon consider 
this the more clearly will yon see its truth. Every 
one of the moral attributes of the Creator is but a 
phase of love; for, what is truth but love speaking 
the words that are right? what is mercy but love 
condescending to the unworthy and the miserable? 
what, indeed, is justice itself but love governing the 
universe for the highest ends? And the law is love 
brought into expression in the conduct of intelligent 
beings. The law, then, is the utterance of the moral 
nature of God. 

4. The law solves the problem involved in the relation 
of the individual liberty to the common welfare. Po- 
litical philosophy has been embarrassed by this 
problem from the first. Men in society are in such 
relations to each other that each one, in pursuing 
his own ends and seeking to gratify his own desires, 
is liable to trench upon the rights, to encroach upon 
the possessions, and disturb the peace, of others. 
To insure the public welfare, therefore, private lib- 
erty must be restrained. The general good demands 
a thousand checks upon the freedom of personal 
ambition and impulse. In business, in social inter- 
course, in the gratification of appetite, in the pur- 
suit of honors and pleasures, a man must be held 
under repression, lest he should jostle and damage 
his neighbor; but let the law of God — the law of 
love — be realized in character and become universal, 
and the conflict ceases. This law, realized in con- 
sciousness, and giving impulse to desire and pursuit, 



198 The Law and the Gospel. 

will but enhance the common good, through the 
means of personal freedom; for each one will find his 
own happiness in promoting the well-being of others. 
Love finds its blessedness in blessing; it is more 
pained in the injury of others than in its own calami- 
ties; it seeks its own in contributing to the common 
wealth. Give the man who loves his neighbor per- 
fect liberty! Never fear him. The common weal 
will only be enhanced by his freedom. Who ever 
thinks of putting restraints upon a mother, in the 
midst of her family? If only she has knowledge 
and wisdom enough to understand what is best, 
there is no fear. Trust her with her children; let 
her be perfectly free; just let her have her own way! 
There is no other possible means of insuring the 
welfare of her children comparable to that. She 
shall do what she pleases! 

Did the law of God but rule in all hearts, each 
one would contribute to the utmost of his power and 
resources to the welfare of the whole. He would 
do this of his own suggestion; he would do it freely; 
it would be the outcome of his personal liberty. In 
that case, the largest personal liberty would insure 
the largest possible sum of personal and universal 
good. 

It follows that the law gives this divine solution 
of the problem involved in the relation of the indi- 
vidual liberty to the common welfare. It secures at 
once the largest conceivable measure of freedom to 
the individual and the largest possible amount of 
good to the whole. Indeed, the common good is 
assured by the very liberty of the individual; it is 



The Law and the Gospel. 199 

enhanced by this very means in the highest possi- 
ble degree. Let God once reign in all hearts, and 
von may turn every man loose. In such a case, any 
restraint on one must diminish the sum of the com- 
mon blessedness; for all the free activities in the 
whole would contribute to the general fund. 

5. The law is the condition of life. This proposition 
is incontestable and universal. The law does not 
furnish the condition of salvation to the sinner, but 
this fact does not affect the truth of our proposition. 
It is the universal and unalterable condition of life. 
This is true, whether you take the word condition 
in its popular or in its scientific import. "What 
saith the law? He that cloeth these things shall 
live by them." On the condition of keeping the 
law life is secure. "The soul that sinneth, it shall 
die." He who keeps the law lives, he who violates 
it dies. God has never assured life to any while 
they live in sin. " The wages of sin is death." So, 
also, in the scientific use of the term; life is condi- 
tioned upon the law, and is realized in the law. In 
the very fact of conformity to the law there is life, 
and any departure from it is death. 

To see this clearly, we must contemplate it in the 
light of a truth already established in this Sermon. 
The essence of the law is love — pure, divine love. 
It is not that passion which is sometimes misnamed 
love, and which is only lust, but such holy affection 
as that which brought Christ down from heaven for 
us. It is a matter of consciousness that both purity 
and peace are found in this. In the beneficent af- 
fections there is inward harmony, while selfish pas- 



200 The Law and the Gospel. 

sions are in their own nature a cause of torment. 
The subjective state of the man in whose character 
the law of love is the supreme fact is that which 
the Bible calls life, and the inward discord, impurity, 
and torment of selfish passion is the very state which 
is named death. It is the living, conscious death, 
in wdiich being itself is perverted and becomes a 
curse — it is the death "that never dies.''" How 
manifestly true it is, then, that life is conditioned 
upon the law — that the law, indeed, inwrought into 
character, is the very spiritual life itself. It is the 
life of God in the soul, for the law is the utterance 
of the moral life of God. 

Not only is the law incorporated into personal 
character, the fountain of spiritual life, but it is the 
basis of all good relations between intelligent creat- 
ures, and the condition of both harmony and hap- 
piness in the social state. It secures life objectivel} 7 " 
as w T ell as subjectively: "For he that will love life, 
and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from 
evil, and his lips that they speak no guile; let him 
eschew evil, and do good; let him seek peace, and 
ensue it." If you can imagine a state of society in 
which all are elevated to the perfect standard of the 
law, life will abound within and without. All must 
be purity and peace, confidence and joy. None 
need stand in the attitude of defense — none can 
have occasion of fear, or even of suspicion. Un- 
ruffled happiness must reign in the soul, and un- 
disturbed tranquillity in society. In the inward 
domain there can be naught to embitter, in the 
outer world naught to alarm. Fullness of life 



The Lcao and the Gospel. 201 

arises within, and fullness of peace responds from 
without. 

Nor can I doubt that this constitutes the very 
blessedness of the heavenly state. My conception 
of heaven is not what it was some years ago. Then 
my ideas of it were formed chiefly from the semi- 
sensuous, poetical descriptions given in the last 
chapters of the Apocalypse. True, I still cling to 
these, and enjoy that side of the coming glory as 
intensely as I did then. I love to think of the 
"great white throne," and of the river of life; of 
the sea of glass, and of the fine linen, white and 
clean, which is the righteousness of saints; of the 
house where the many mansions are, and of the an- 
gels and men redeemed from the earth, the just 
made perfect. I love to hear, in imagination, the 
music, and the worship, and the shouting, which 
shall be like the voice of many waters and mighty 
thunders. Nor do I doubt that there is a place 
called heaven, "the metropolis of Jehovah's em- 
pire," where infinite creative skill has brought into 
objective expression the highest, divinest types of 
beauty and grandeur for the delectation of the 
children of God. In this home of the just there is 
nothing to offend. The splendor of it is but feebly 
suggested in the fact that the very foundations of 
the outer w T alls — the meanest stones in all the city 
— are emerald, and jacinth, and sardonyx, and beryl; 
the meanest stones are gems, and the pavement of 
the streets is gold. 

But while I still revel in these gorgeous pictures, 
there is now a view of heaven which seems to m? 
9* 



202 The Law and the Gospel. 

to be infinitely more precious. There is one passage 
in the First Epistle of St. John that gives a deeper 
insight into heaven, and a more resplendent vision 
of its glory. It gives not the outward expression, 
but the inner, essential glory. These are the words; 
he that hath ears to hear, let him hear: "It doth not 
yet appear what we shall he; hut we know that, 
when he shall appear, we shall he like him; for we 
shall see him as he is." Not where a man is, but 
ichat he is, is the great matter. No external condi- 
tion can insure felicity. There must be the inward 
adaptation; there must be capacity for blessedness. 
What would heaven be to your horse? He would 
not exchange a ten-acre meadow^ for it all. No 
doubt heaven is a place, but much more is it a state. 
There is a magnificent objective side to it, but in its 
essence it is subjective. Let the young people of 
my congregation hear me, especially when I say 
that the great thing in every man's case is character. 
Not where a man is, but ichat he is — not what a man 
has, but what he is, ought to concern him chiefly. 
"The kingdom of heaven is within you." Hear 
what I say: It is character that makes destiny. I 
shall never forget how nature, in its most beautiful 
forms, gloomed before me when the guilt of my 
sins was upon me, nor how the world flamed into 
a new beauty, how the very forests seemed touched 
with celestial light, when I first felt the peace of 
God within. The truth is, the subjective projects its 
own light upon the objective, and, as to our delight 
in them, things are very much what we ourselves 
make them. It is character that makes destiny. 



The Law and the Gospel 203 

To be like the Lord Jesus is my highest conception 
of heaven, and to be like him is to have a character 
modeled upon the law. 

There is another Bible description of heaven 
which lies in the line of my thought. It is in the 
Apocalypse: "He that overcometh shall inherit all 
things, and I will be his God, and he shall be my 
son." This is not mere poetry, it is literal truth. I 
shall, if I am saved at last, find myself in possession 
of all things. All heaven and all worlds will be 
my property. The very angels will belong to me, 
and all redeemed men. I shall — I say it with awe 
— inherit even God! Yet will my title not be ex- 
clusive; every saved soul will enjoy the same vast 
property. But my title will not be a mere frac- 
tional interest, reduced by these innumerable partici- 
pants to an infinitesimal share. The great domain 
of the universe will be mine wholly. It will be 
yours wholly, also, as well as mine. What strange 
paradox is this! Ah, my brother! it is true as 
.strange, and the fact lies in the deepest philosophy 
of spiritual life. We shall find the explanation in 
the tenure by which our final possessions are to be 
held. 

The tenure is love. "What! are you not satisfied 
with the title? I tell you it is the most indefeasible 
and the safest in the universe, and constitutes the 
most real possession. Your property that you hold 
in fee and in the best securities may stand in a de- 
fective title, to be defended by litigation, with a 
thousand costs and vexatious, and in the end be 
lost. At any rate, death will wrest it from vou. 



204 The Law and the Gospel. 

At the very best, it is a loose possession, lying out- 
side of you, and it may be but a very small part of 
it actually utilized to any substantial benefit. 

But love is the soul's actual grasp and conscious 
possession of things. It is the inward title and vital 
hold of its object. He who loves his neighbor as 
himself has him for his property, with all his riches, 
his virtues, his attainments. What an appropriat- 
ing possession have I taken of the man whom I 
love as I love myself! By this tenure shall I enter 
upon the ownership of all things at last. 

But the glorious wonder is my title will not in- 
terfere with yours, nor yours with mine, nor will 
the possession of either diminish the value of the 
estate to the other; on the contrary, it will enhance 
it. There is a divine law by which participation does 
not diminish the property of the individual, but 
multiplies it by the number of participants. Im- 
agine a man whose property amounts to millions; 
but he is a solitary man; in all the world there is 
not one that he loves; he occupies his mansion 
alone. Of what value is wealth to him? What en- 
joyment has he in it? All may be summed up in a 
very few narrow words. G ratified cupidity, and 
satiated appetite, and artistic taste, give the full 
measure. But let the participation of wife and 
children come in, and the value of every dollar is 
multiplied by the wonderful arithmetic of love, and 
it is only the more fully his as it is theirs also. So 
will it be in heaven; I shall own all things. So 
will you, and I shall own you, and you will own 
me; and I shall own your ownership of all things 



The Law and the Gospel. 205 

and of me. Thus your participation, so far from 
being an intrusion, or abstracting from my posses- 
sions, will only enhance my property by the full 
measure of your own enrichment. I shall enjoy 
your enjoyment of it as I shall my own, so that 
your presence and participation will double the es- 
tate for me. And the participants will be countless 
multitudes. heaven! when shall I enter upon 
thy perfect bliss? 

How shallow is the philosophy of the selfish man ! 
He imagines that to give up his selfish aims and 
contests would be his ruin. To him it seems that 
to sink self would be to sacrifice every thing. 

But let us see. Compare the range of the selfish 
man's enjoyments with that of one who loves his 
neighbor as he loves himself. The enjoyments of 
the selfish man are bounded by the limit of his own 
acquisitions and attainments; the distinctions he 
has readied, the wealth he has amassed, and the 
gratification of his appetites and tastes, give the 
sum of his happiness, and this is to be subtracted 
from by the amount of his losses and his baffled 
plans and defeated hopes. But the man who loves 
his neighbor as himself enters into the happiness 
of all others; he enjoys all the prosperity that he 
knows of; the successes and triumphs of others 
he enjoys as if they were his own; the range of 
his enjoyments is limited not by his acquisitions, 
but by his capacities; he lays the world under 
contribution to himself — he draws his revenues from 
the universe. Such is the magic power of love; it 
possesses itself of all the wealth of others. A 



206 The Law and the Gospel. 

mother enjoys the happiness of her children more 
than she does her own — ay, perhaps more than 
they do themselves. A fatal mistake is that of the 
selfish man. If he could only rise to the level of 
this great truth, what a new world he would find 
himself in ! It seems to him that to sink self would 
be ruin. Not so; for just where the self goes down 
consciousness emerges upon a higher plane and en- 
joys the freedom of the universe. With infinitely 
multiplied sources of wealth, there comes also the 
augmented capacity of enjoyment. 

So true is it that the law is the condition of life; 
it is the very fountain of celestial blessedness. It 
opens the resources of the universe, and invests us 
in possession of all things. It is the soul's true en- 
franchisement. If the truth shall make you free, 
you shall be free indeed. It constitutes the very life 
of heaven itself. 

It is true, then, as I said in the introduction, that 
the law is, in one aspect of it — and, indeed, in its 
nature and purposes — as really an expression of the 
divine beneficence as the gospel is. " The law was 
ordained to life." The very purpose of its ordina- 
tion was to secure the spiritual and eternal life and 
well-being of intelligent creatures. 

Now, you may say, It is plain that the law was 
ordained to life, and, if so, it is beyond all question 
an expression of the divine beneficence. If so, per- 
haps you may be disposed to infer that the law can 
never injure you — that you have nothing to fear 
from it. Let us see. 

Take an illustration from the domain of physical 



The Law and the Gospel. 207 

law. Even this, also, was ordained to life. Take 
the law of gravitation — that great universal law by 
which all the forces of nature are regulated and 
held in check. It is evidently a most beneficent 
law, and was ordained to life. Life would not be 
possible amid the forces of nature if they had not 
metes and bounds set to them by this law. All 
loose objects on the surface of the earth would 
otherwise be forever quiescent, or else thrown about 
at random, so that no man could calculate upon 
their movement's. N"o mechanic could know what 
apparatus might be necessary to elevate beams or 
stones to their places in the wall. One could not 
even tell the exertion necessary to set one foot be- 
fore the other. But with this universal law dom- 
inating nature with absolute uniformity, the little 
child soon becomes at home in the world, and learns 
how to adjust himself to its movements. ISTow, 
suppose some man should say, It is clear to me that 
the law of gravitation was ordained to life — that 
its very purpose was beneficent. I have, therefore, 
nothing to fear from this law; it can never hurt 
me. In this mood, standing on some "pinnacle of 
the temple," the devil of presumption comes to him 
and says, "Jump oft*, the law of gravitation will 
never hurt you; it is a beneficent law; never fear." 
He makes the leap. Imagine the consequences. Or 
he stands upon a mountain slope in the track of a 
descending avalanche, and, folding his arms, says, 
"I will just stand still; the law that moves the 
descending man is a beneficent one." In five min- 
utes he will be a mass of bloody jelly. The truth 



208 The Law and the Gospel. 

is that all of God's laws are ordained to life — they 
have all a beneficent purpose; but the beneficent 
effect itself depends upon the uniformity and cer- 
tainty of their execution. If this uniformity were 
broken up by exceptions in favor of the thoughtless 
or the wayward, the result would be such confusion 
as would defeat the beneficent purpose. A man 
must know that a given effect will follow a given 
condition always and everywhere, or he can never 
feel secure. It is, then, in the uniformity of its ex- 
ecution that the beneficent effect of the law is 
assured. But it follows from this that he who dis- 
regards the law r must be destroyed by it. These 
laws of nature go forward to their objective point 
under the momentum of Omnipotence. He who 
adjusts himself to them has the full advantage of 
their beneficent design; but if any man shall dare 
to stand in their way, he must die the death. 

Law r is given to man for life; but with respect to 
the law T he is free. The purpose of God is that we 
should adjust ourselves to the law; otherwise, we shall 
find that the law ordained to life will operate our 
death. It will clo this by virtue of the very fact in 
which its beneficent design appears — that is, the 
uniformity of its operation. This is true, in both 
the physical and the spiritual domain. The law is 
life to him who adjusts himself to it, and death to 
him who violates it. 

Especially is the moral law enforced by a penal 
administration: "The wicked shall be turned into 
hell, and all the nations that forget God." It is 
maintained by sovereign, divine authority. 



The Law and the Gospel 209 

II. Now, we are prepared to approach the ques- 
tion of the text: "Do we then make void the law 
through faith?" and to examine as to the truth of 
the reply: "God forbid: yea, we establish the 
law." 

I have said that the law is the condition of life, 
and that this is a universal truth. Everywhere and 
at all times it is the condition of life. To the un- 
fallen the condition is practicable, but to the fallen 
it is not. The law is above them; it is impossible 
to them; they are under a spiritual paralysis which 
incapacitates them for its observance. 

The law is the condition of life for the unfallen, 
but it is not the condition of pardon for the guilty. 
It contains no remedy for the depraved. 

But the gospel is also a law. If the law is the 
condition of life for the unfallen, the gospel is the law 
of recovery for the fallen. 

The gospel is not a mere random, uncalculating, 
uncliscriminating distribution of saving mercies; it 
is a method — it is God's method of saving the lost. In 
the processes of recovery he adheres as invariably 
to his own established method as in the case of the 
moral law. What the method, as it applies to in- 
fants and the heathen, may be in all respects, we 
may not know. We know that all who are saved 
are saved by the Atonement, and, as to those to 
whom the gospel comes, salvation is conditioned 
upon repentance and faith. In all cases we know, 
also, that God adheres to his own method. 

As the gospel is the law of recovery for the lost, 
the question is whether this method is iu conflict 



210 The Law and the Gospel 

with the original law, which is the condition of 
life. In the salvation of the sinner, is the moral 
law made void? 

If so, it must he in one of two particulars: either, 

First. That it disregards the penal authority of 
the law, and sets aside the penal administration; or, 

Second. That it relieves its subjects of the obliga- 
tion of obedience and holy living. 

If the first be true, it must appear in the method 
of pardon ; if the second be true, it must appear in 
the moral processes of salvation as they appear in 
personal character. 

Let us look into the facts. Our first inquiry is 
with respect to the law of pardon as it relates to the 
penal administration. Does it discredit the moral 
law? does it contemn, or dishonor, the punitive au- 
thority? Let us see how the case stands. 

The terms of the law are : " The soul that sinneth, 
it shall die." The inviolable claim of justice is con- 
cerned here. Death is the penalty of sin. If the 
penalty should fail in any one case, the justice of God 
is impeached. !N"o greater calamity could befall the 
universe; for the infinite integrity of the divine jus- 
tice is the sole guaranty of the peace of the universe. 
If it shall fail in any one case, it is not infinite; one 
failure would be conclusive proof of its imperfection. 
If the divine justice is imperfect, universal disorder 
impends. The law must be uniform to insure its 
beneficent end, as we have already seen. Heaven 
and earth may fail, but not one jot or tittle of the 
law shall fail. Death always follows sin; there arc 
no exceptional cases; there never was one, and 



The Law and the Gospel. 211 

never will be — never can be. ^N"o sinner ever en- 
tered heaven over the trampled and dishonored law. 
Every sin that is committed is followed by death. 

The method of pardon provided in the gospel 
meets the case. In the atoning sacrifice of Christ the 
demand of the law is met in the full measure of its 
penalty. The incarnate Son of God appears for man 
before the law ; he offers his life for man's life. Wh at 
a solemn, yea, what an awful, spectacle is this ! The 
Son of God invites the stroke of justice impending 
over man upon his own head. If the case had been 
submitted to me, I should have said that for him to 
stand and proclaim himself the representative of 
man would be enough. I should have thought, a 
priori, that the imperious law- would bow before him, 
and turn aside from its demand. But no. Even he, 
standing in the sinner's place, must touch the sin- 
ner's doom. Justice, supreme, infinite, implacable, 
smote even him; the law vindicated itself even on 
his honored head. 

The supremacy of the law is thus established be- 
fore heaven and earth in the person of the Son of 
God, who takes the penalty of the sinner upon him- 
self. Do we not, then, establish the law in the 
method of pardon? How r glorious is the law! how" 
inviolable, since this Divine Victim was sacrificed to 
its penal supremacy! Behold the severity of the 
gospel ! It gave the Lord of glory to death to meet 
the claim of justice; it proposes no mitigation, but 
pays the "mighty debt." 

In the pardon of sin we see that the honor of the 
law is fully maintained. Is it so in the processes of 



212 The Law and the Gospel. 

salvation, as they appertain to individual character? 
Are the claims of the law released so far as the ob- 
ligation of obedience is concerned? 

As to those classes to whom the gospel does not 
come, to whose understandings its claims are not 
addressed — as idiots, infants, and the heathen — we 
are in ignorance of the method by which the bene- 
fits of the Atonement become effectual in their case; 
but in the case of those who receive the message 
we know what the method is, for, let it be repeated, 
the gospel, too, is a law — the law of recovery for 
the sinner. No man is saved by the gospel except 
by its method. Salvation is conditioned upon the 
method: " Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise 
perish;" "he that believeth hath life." 

Behold, again, the severity of the gospel ! Its de- 
mand upon us for repentance is absolutely inexora- 
ble. To " perish " is the alternative. But repentance 
is the abandonment of sin, and sin is the transgres- 
sion of the law. The sinner must return to the law. 
JSTo matter if the sin be dear as the right eye, or 
valuable as the right hand, the very eye must be 
plucked out, the hand cut off. This inexorable de- 
mand is in the law of recovery; its voice is impe- 
rious as the thunder-tone of Sinai. Repentance is 
consummated in faith. The two are vitally related 
to each other, and are, indeed, parts of the same 
process. Repentance is the Godward movement of 
the soul, and just where the soul touches consciously 
upon God it passes into faith. Faith takes Christ 
for all that he is, takes God for all that he is. In 
faith the soul opens itself to all divine communica- 



The Law and the Gospel. 213 

tions and energies. Faith is the condition of recep- 
tivity toward God. 

Upon this the new birth supervenes. What is the 
new birth? Can you tell me just what is accom- 
plished in a man when he is converted? The apos- 
tle has given us the statement in inspired words; 
hear them: "The love of God is shed abroad in our 
hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us." 
The love of God shed abroad in the heart — that is 
the new birth. But love is the sum of the law, and 
God is love. In the conversion of the soul the law 
becomes subjective in character. Experimental and 
practical religion are vitally related to each other. 
In experimental religion, the law is inwrought into 
the inner life; in practical religion, it appears in the 
outer life. The same divine finger that wrote the 
law on the tables of stone, now, in the work of salva- 
tion, writes it on the heart of the believer. Refor- 
mation of life and manners accompanies conversion. 
Where the work is genuine a holy life is the result. 

Is the law made void in this? Xay, verily, it is 
established. The lav: is an assertion of the divine au- 
thority, and the gospel brings its subjects to a willing 
and joyful obedience. The law postulates the ultimate 
truth with regard to moral relations, and through the 
gospel the ultimate truth becomes incorporated into 
character. The law is the utterance of the moral nature 
of God, and through the gospel we become "par- 
takers of the divine nature, having escaped the cor- 
ruption that is in the word through lust," The law 
solves the problem involved in the relation of the indi- 
vidual liberty with the common weal. In Christ the 



214 The Law and the Gospel. 

truth makes men free, and they are free indeed. 
This liberty is never the cloak of licentiousness; its 
impulses are the inspiration of the law of God. 
The law is the condition of life; the gospel simply 
brings men back to this condition; it establishes the 
law. 

Many, no doubt, misconceive the very nature of 
salvation. When they think of being saved, they 
think only of escaping hell-torments after death, 
and entering into some beautiful world where there 
is no suffering nor death; but to escape torment, 
and live in a world free from suffering, is not of the 
essence of salvation. These things are necessary 
and invariable incidents of salvation; but they are 
not of the essence of it. Salvation is a fact of charac- 
ter; it is subjective; it is found in the attainment of 
holiness. Inward purity is the essence of it, and 
outward conformity to the will of God the expres- 
sion of it. 

In the great work of grace by which we are saved 
the gospel does what the law cannot do, but not in 
any manner that contravenes the law. It honors 
the law's penalty, most solemnly and awfully, in the 
death of our august Substitute; it also respects the 
sacred claim of the law in the method upon which 
salvation is conditioned, in the inexorable law of 
repentance and faith. Beyond all this, it brings the 
resources of grace, in the powerful operation of the 
Holy Spirit, to recover men from their depraved 
condition, and reproduce in them the purity of the 
law. 

The gospel takes man, fallen from the law, guilty. 



The Law and the Gospel. 215 

polluted, lost, and elevates him again to the plane of 
the law; it restores him to the law. 

"Do we then make void the law through faith? God 

FORBID : YEA, WE ESTABLISH THE LAW." 

I have said that the law is as really an expression 
of beneficence as the gospel; and so it certainly is, 
for it was ordained to the same end — that is, to life. 
But it ought to be added that the gospel is a more 
tender and affecting exhibition of goodness than the 
law. Depraved as man is, he suffers a spiritual 
paralysis, which renders him incapable of immediate 
divine communion, and insensible to that direct 
communication of God which the law is; he is not 
susceptible of divine influences; he is in an unre- 
ceptive condition toward God. It was necessary, 
therefore, that a method of salvation should be re- 
sorted to in which Gocl should approach man 
through his natural sympathies and sensibilities. 
To this end the eternal Son became incarnate; the 
infinite pity looked upon man through human eyes, 
and spoke to him in the sorrow-burdened tones of 
a human voice; he took our nature, and in it suf- 
fered the most dreadful death on our account. We 
have him evermore before our eyes, perspiring blood 
in the garden, and dying on the cross; we see him 
perpetually treacling the wine-press of the wrath 
of God alone. He suffers all this agony for us sin- 
ners, and for our salvation; and this agony inter- 
prets the heart of God to us in a human language 
that we can understand. God comes upon us on 
the side of our natural sensibilities, and opens a 
way for himself through our human sympathies — ■ 



216 The Law and the Gospel. 

so tender, so touching, is this expression of the di- 
vine love. 

What is more sublime than the prophetic decla- 
ration, "He shall see of the travail of his soul, and 
shall be satisfied?" Is not this the grandest fact in 
heaven itself — Christ's own gratified contemplation 
of the fruit of his agony? He will remember all — 
the bloody sweat, the buffeting, the crown of thorns, 
the scourging, the hour and power of darkness, the 
anguish of the cross, the awful hiding of his Father's 
face — all, all, he will remember; but around him 
will be the "innumerable multitude" saved from 
sin, saved from the "second death," and raised to a 
destiny whose joy and grandeur only he will com- 
prehend; and he will be satisfied. This gratified 
contemplation of the fruit of his sufferings will be 
Christ's own eternal, ineffable heaven. This is the 
"joy of the Lord." 

My brethren of the Virginia Conference, you are 
permitted to enter into the participation of Christ's 
labors, and you have the promise that you shall, if 
you are faithful, enter into his joy. His joy is 
found in the fruit of his toil; so shall yours be the 
fruit of your own labor and of his. O let us emu- 
late the self-sacrifice of Christ ! He avoided no toil, 
evaded no shame, sought no ease in the labors of 
his great enterprise; he did not even shun the gar- 
den or the cross. Think of this, you who have the 
hardest circuits, and are in the deepest poverty! 
think of this, you whose toil is the hardest, and 
whose cross is the heaviest! Behold, the Lord is 
now gone up, and is beginning even now to reap 



The Law and the Gospel. 217 

the fruit of his paiu ! The multiplying millions of 
his redeemed are gathering around him ; he looks 
to you to swell the number. What if your labor be 
in pain and poverty? so was his. What if you are 
despised by men? so was he. The time is at hand 
when you, too, shall be called up to hear that su- 
preme word which will create your heaven: "Well 
done, thou good and faithful servant; thou hast been 
faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler 
over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy 
Lord." Thou hast been with him in toil; thou 
shalt also, in thy measure, with him gather in the 
harvest and enter into the joy. 
10 



218 The Corn of Wheat. 



§he fifom of Wi\mt 



SERMON VII. 

" Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall 
into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it 
bringeth forth much fruit." John xii. 24, 

THE Lord was about to be crucified. The last 
week of his life was spent in Jerusalem and 
the suburban village of Bethany, the residence of 
Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 

The Feast of the Passover was approaching; the 
city was thronged with those who had come up to 
the great annual festival. Many had come from 
remote regions: for then, as now, the Jews were 
scattered over the whole civilized world, engaged 
largely in commercial pursuits. But the great feast 
brought them in multitudes from remotest regions, 
annually, to the City of David. 

The strangers coming to the city at this particu- 
lar time found the resident community agitated by 
the presence of a personage whose character and 
claims had produced violent antagonisms. For the 
most part, he was despised by the higher classes; 



The Corn of Wheat. 219 

but the common people were strongly attracted by 
him. His hold upon the masses aggravated the 
hatred of those who were accustomed to be consid- 
ered leaders of opinion. 

A recent event had greatly augmented his influ- 
ence in Jerusalem. Lazarus had been raised by 
him from the dead in Bethany. This miracle was 
a very striking one. Lazarus was known in Jeru- 
salem. People of the city were with the sisters of 
the dead man, on a visit of condolence, at the time 
when he was raised. He had been dead four days; 
he was buried. What a sensation must have been 
produced by his sudden emergence from the tomb, 
bound hand and foot with grave-clothes! The vis- 
itors from the city would not fail to fill Jerusalem 
with the wonder. The dead man himself, reappear- 
ing upon the streets, must have been the object of 
universal interest. The concourse assembled at the 
feast not long after must have heard of this event 
as the principal fact of recent occurrence. The 
man who was raised from the dead and the man 
who raised him were objects of universal and deep 
interest. 

This irritated his enemies, and the very anger 
and agitation of them but excited public attention 
the more. By reason of the raising of this man, 
many Jews "went away and believed on Jesus;" 
and his mortified enemies said, "See, we prevail 
nothing. The learned men and wise, accustomed 
to teach, and sitting in Moses's seat, have decided 
against the pretensions of this Jesus, but the world 
goes after hirrf." It was an indignity they could 



220 The Corn of Wheat 

not bear; it discredited them, and they consulted to 
put both Jesus and Lazarus to death. Their very 
rage fanned the flame of public interest. 

To make matters worse, just when these men 
were in their heat of anger, another event swelled 
the volume of public interest in Christ. "Much 
people, who had come up to the feast," made a pub- 
lic demonstration of homage to him. He had evi- 
dently passed the night at Bethany. This, I think, 
was his custom when in Jerusalem. His home was 
probably with the lovely family of Bethany. In 
the morning, on his way to the city, he was met by 
a vast concourse of people. A colt was provided, 
whereon never man sat, and as Jesus rode forward 
toward the city, the enthusiasm of the multitude 
broke over all bounds. They cast branches of palm, 
and even their garments, down in the way before 
him, and broke forth in shouts of adulation. They 
probably accompanied him through the streets of 
the city, preceding him, following him, and sur- 
rounding him, with loud acclamations of homage. 
The whole city was agog with the event. 

No wonder that strangers present should become 
curious about him, and that certain Greeks, who 
had come up to the feast, hunted up one of his dis- 
ciples, and requested of him to secure them an in- 
terview: "Sir, we would see Jesus." 

Philip seems to have hesitated, but consulted his 
brother Andrew, and the two together communi- 
cated the request of the Greeks to the Master. As 
to whether they were admitted to an interview or 
not, the narrative is not explicit; bitt it is generally 



The Com of Wheat. 221 

believed that they were, and that the discourse 
which contains the text which I have announced 
was delivered to them. Trench thinks he discovers 
some accommodation to Greek habitudes of thought 
in the illustration of spiritual truth by processes of 
nature. This, however, seems to me to be far- 
fetched, inasmuch as the same fact often occurs in 
parables spoken only in the presence of native 
Jews. 

The text takes its meaning from the immediate 
context, the verse just preceding and that next fol- 
lowing it. The passage preceding it is in these 
words: "And Jesus answered them, saying, The 
hour is come that the Son of man should be glori- 
fied." These words evidently contemplate his death, 
now so near at hand; but how striking is the 
phraseology! ~No man speaks of his death as a 
glorification . Why Christ should consider his death 
in that light will appear as w^e proceed. 

But verse 25, which follows the text, is connected 
with it as vitally as the 23d, and affects its mean- 
ing no less: "He that loveth his life shall lose it; 
and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep 
it unto life eternal." 

In view of these preliminary and preparatory 
statements, I proceed to say: 

I. The text contains the doctrine of the Atone- 
ment. 

The sacrificial death of Christ provides the con- 
ditions in which man, perishing in his sins, may be 
restored to an incorruptible and eternal life. The 
saved man lives by the death of Christ. This is a 



222 The Com of Wheat 

general statement of the doctrine of Atonement; 
but let us remark, more particularly : 

1. The death of Christ removes all legal obstructions 
out of the way, so that sin may be pardoned consist- 
ently with all the claims of the law upon the sinner. 
The penalty of sin is death, and Christ died not for 
himself, for he had no sin, but for man; "he bore 
our sins in his own body on the tree;" "he suffered 
death for us;" "he, by the grace of God, tasted 
death for every man ;" he suffered in our place. 
Beware of any theory which takes away from the 
death of Christ this meaning. The whole system 
of saving doctrine goes by the board if Christ did 
not suffer vicariously as our Substitute. He met the 
claim of justice against us, so that now "God can 
be just and the Justifier of him that believet.h in 
Jesus." 

Inasmuch as Christ has suffered for our sin, God 
can pardon sin — that is to say, he can hold those 
guiltless whose guilt the Divine Substitute took upon 
himself. 

I do not say that our Lord suffered as much as all 
his people must have suffered in eternity if he had 
not died, thus furnishing an exact " commercial 
equivalent" for their penalty; but I do say that in 
his death he undertook to represent man and to bear 
man's guilt, and that, in view of his divine dignity 
and glory, his suffering had a value which makes it 
right and just that those who believe in him should 
have remission of the sentence. All the ends of 
a penal administration are met and provided for by 
his death, whenever a guilty man is restored to the 



The Corn of Wheat. 223 

favor of God on his account. He is, therefore, oar 
Substitute. 

2. The incarnation and sufferings of Christ bring 
about conditions which make the moral and spirit- 
ual renovation of man practicable. 

(1) The restoration of good relations between man and 
his Maker having been provided for by the sacrificial 
character of the Atonement, the way was open for the 
work of the Holy Spirit. So long as forgiveness of 
sin was unprovided for, any touches of grace upon 
the inward life would have been unavailing. The 
gift of the Spirit to a man in hopeless guilt, for 
whom no method of pardon had been provided, 
could have been but a pretense of mercy, a mockery 
of his despair; but, now that the Substitute has 
suffered, and pardons are freely dispensed to all who 
come to God by Christ, the agency of the Spirit 
conveys divinest significance of love; it looks to 
effectuate the end for which Christ came; it awak- 
ens the conscience, shows the sinner his guilt and 
shame, and quickens the moral sensibilities; it starts 
the spiritual nature into such measures of vitality as 
make repentance and faith possible. 

Nor could actual salvation be realized in the case 
of any one man, in the absence of this ministration 
of the Spirit. Dead in trespasses and sins, no spir- 
itual movement could originate in him without these 
touches of prevenient grace; he could have no good- 
will toward God but for this quickening grace going 
before to awaken him to a sense of his sin and a 
knowledge of the verities of eternity. 

(2) The active priesthood of Christ, ever living to 



224 The Corn of Wheat. 

make intercession for us, is involved in the Atone- 
ment. In this office he is charged with all affairs 
between man and God; he is at once the bloody 
Sacrifice and the officiating Priest; he "died for sin 
once," but is "a priest forever after the order of 
Melchisedec;" he offers, perpetually, the " one sacri- 
fice" before the throne — -thus making atonement 
evermore. 

(3) The incarnation and death of our Lord so re- 
late the Infinite Sovereign to his depraved and guilty 
subjects on the earth as to make faith possible. Salva- 
tion is realized in faith. " Without faith it is im- 
possible to please God." It is in faith that man 
realizes his restoration to God; destitute of this, 
he is, in fact, alien from God. Unbelief is, in its 
very nature, alienation from God. The Atonement, 
therefore, must not only remove the legal barriers 
out of the way of pardon, but must provide such 
conditions as will make faith possible to man. Per- 
haps the most fundamental fact of a depraved state 
is the inappetency for divine things — the incapacity 
of faith. There is no power of spiritual percep- 
tion; the faith-faculty is in paralysis. Fallen man 
lives in the senses; his is a life of sense, not a life of 
faith. 

In the Incarnation God comes down to him and 
manifests himself in a sensible way; he takes on 
human forms of expression, and operates through 
human organs; he looks upon us with human eyes, 
but the expression of them is divine. A human 
finger touches the blind eye, but does God's work 
upon it — restores it to sight. A human voice speaks 



The Corn of Wheat 225 

to Lazarus; but it is God's power that it conveys to 
the dead man in his grave, bringing him back to 
life. In this presence we become conscious of God; 
and this Holy One takes our sin upon himself, re- 
ceives our penalty into his own person, dies for us. 
But for such proof of love his approach would 
frighten us ; guilty terrors would drive us from him. 
But he manifests himself to us, and we know that 
he is; he suffers for us, and we know that he is Love; 
he appeals to our human sensibilities, and the con- 
ditions of faith are completed in the gracious and 
enlightening presence of the Holy Spirit. 

But all hinges upon the fact of his vicarious suf- 
ferings. All the sources of redeeming agency are 
in his sacrificial death. Atonement is made on the 
cross, and all else that is involved in it must be re- 
ferred to that as the radical fact out of which it 
grows, and from which it draws its vitality. We live 
by his death. This sums the tloctrine of Atonement. 

This doctrine is "the power of God and the wis- 
dom of God to them that believe ;" but " to the Jews 
it is a stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolish- 
ness." Even now, still, after the accumulated testi- 
mony of eighteen centuries has attested its divine 
fitness to human need, as the chief factor in the 
highest civilization, and as the saving power in in- 
dividual experience, the self-conceited and skeptical 
continue to reiterate the allegation. To thousands 
it is still " an offense ;" it is rejected by them as irra- 
tional and against nature. 

Some years since I met with a young man who 
was a representative of this class. He had just com- 
10* 



226 The Corn of Wheat. 

pleted his college-course in an Eastern university. 
Whatever else he had or had not acquired, he brought 
home a profound sense of his own powers. He had 
formed opinions on all the great questions of life 
and destiny, and had not the slightest misgiving as 
to the accuracy of them. He knew. Immature as 
his opinions were, and imperfect as was his grasp 
of philosophy, he had got quite beyond the period 
of inquiry and research, and had reached that of 
certitude and complacency. 

He rejected — you will not be surprised at that — 
he scorned, the doctrine of Atonement. "I w T ill not 
receive life by the sacrifice of another. I will not 
have a pardon on the terms of the gospel. I will not 
go free while an innocent victim bears my penalty. 
It outrages my sense of justice that the guilt of the 
criminal should be laid on the innocent. It shocks 
me! I would sooner perish forever than go to 
heaven knowing that I had escaped my doom only 
by another having to bear my penalty." So he 
rattled away for about the space of fifteen minutes, 
never for a moment doubting that he understood 
the whole matter. He congratulated himself upon 
his great elevation of character, and upon the glow 
of indignation he felt at the thought of an innocent 
substitute being sacrificed for his sin. 

Nor would he hear a word from any one — cer- 
tainly not from any one w r ho had not been at the 
fountains of wisdom from which he himself had had 
such copious draughts. He would condescend to 
notice no suggestion, however rational or well-timed, 
but continued to pour forth his voluble repetitions 



The Corn of Wheat 227 

till he had conquered a— silence. The presence of 
a scholarly man of mature thought and great breadth 
of mind — a believer in Christ — gave him no pause. 

If there were any injustice in the innocent suffer- 
ing for the guilty — as no doubt there would be if it 
were enforced suffering — there is none when the 
sufferer volunteers. Sublime self-sacrifice there is in 
our Lord's death, but. not injustice to him. "He 
gave himself." It was not an enforced subjection 
of him to my penalty. "~No man taketh my life 
from me. I lay it down of myself. I have power to 
lay it down, and I have power to take it again." 
No one sees injustice in the suffering of the king 
who took the half of his son's penalty. It was a 
noble instance of parental self-sacrifice and admin- 
istrative justice. Much more are all right-thinking 
minds impressed with the grandeur of that devotion 
of himself for the rescue of his guilty creatures 
which the Son of G-od manifested on the cross. " He 
loved us, and gave himself for us." If the Father 
"laid on him the iniquity of us all," it is no less 
true that he voluntarily assumed the burden. He 
bared his own back to the stripes laid on by the 
hand of justice. 

But that one should live by the death of another 
— is that so strange a fact? That multitudes should 
live by the death of one— is that against nature? 
On the contrary, it is in exact accord with the facts 
of existence on every side of us. I challenge the 
skeptic upon the following proposition: 

The Christian doctrine of Atonement lies fully 
within the analogies of nature as they appear in 



228 The Corn of Wheat 

vital phenomena. It has its counterpart in nature. 
It is the same law operative in a different sphere. 
It is not exceptional, as to the aspect of it which 
we are now considering. It is not a violent depart- 
ure from the methods of nature, hut in full harmony 
with them. 

I submit another postulate. It is this: 

All life in this world is conditioned upon death. 

This is not a general proposition — it is a universal 
one. General propositions allow of exceptions; but 
this law is universal — there are no exceptions. 
What may be the fact in other worlds I do not pre- 
tend to know, for I know nothing of vital phenom- 
ena in other worlds. There may be a different order 
elsewhere, possibly — I cannot tell; there may be 
beautiful regions where there is no death — where 
life springs directly from the hand of God, without 
any such processes as we have to deal with here; 
but this I know, that in our world all life comes of 
death. 

Whether this ignominious source of life, as it is a 
universal law, has any connection with sin or not, I 
shall not undertake to determine, to-day. For aught 
I know, man may have his being in a world tainted 
by him throughout. He is at the head of nature, 
and all nature may, for all I know to the contrary, 
be depraved through him. What concerns my 
argument now is 'that death is everywhere, in our 
world, the source of life. There are no exceptions 
— positively none — not even in the lowest forms of 
life. From the lowest forms of vegetative vitality 
to the highest type of animal existence, the law 



The Corn of Wheat. 229 

holds. Evermore life springs out of death, and is 
supported by death. 

"Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and 
die, it abideth alone; hut if it die, it bringeth forth 
much fruit." This is the law of vegetable reproduc- 
tion. The seed must decay — must suffer disorgan- 
ization, and disappear. The minute germ-point 
starts into activity, and gets its first pabulum 
from the delicate starchy substance in which it is 
imbedded. This dies to make food for the new 
life. In the very act of dissolution it sends upward 
the tender embryo stalk, and starts downward the 
tiny fibrous rootlets. Life begins to work in the 
body of death; life is born of death. The '-corn 
of wheat" must perish to give birth to the new 
life. So are the mysteries of life and death blended 
together; so closely are these antagonisms wedded. 

I can imagine some celestial new-comer visiting 
the earth to study the constitution of terrestrial nat- 
ure. He has discovered that the store of wheat in 
the granary, so sedulously guarded by the farmer, is 
the vital nourishment of the household. Still igno- 
rant of vital processes, he sees the father take bushel 
after bushel of the precious wheat at seed-time, 
and scatter it broadcast upon the mellowed soil. 
''What!" he cries, "what is this? Are you stark 
mad? What perverse waste is this? You throw 
away your children's food ! " But the farmer knows. 
Ah! it is that the loved ones may have food again 
next year that he does this. He knows that the 
"corn of wheat" must die that there may be a new 
harvest. He commits the seed to the faithful bo- 



230. The Corn of Wheat. 

som of mother earth, well knowing that from the 
fecundity of death she will yield him a generous 
increase. 

Take a grain of wheat — lay it in your hand; you 
scarcely feel the weight of it. What is it? So much 
starch, so much gelatine, so much bran, and a dor- 
mant germ-point — that is all. What is the value of 
it? Lay it away in a dry place ; protect it; preserve 
it from decay; you have just this minute quantity 
of starch, and gelatine, and bran, and the inactive 
germ-point — nothing more; it means that, and 
nothing more. But let it die in the soil, and you dis- 
cover a potential life — a potential life that deatlf 
makes actual; it takes a new significance, a new and 
higher value; it contains the prophecy of countless 
harvests; it stands for all the mysteries of life. 

Nor is this less true of animal life. Death comes 
before life; life is still born of death. In incuba- 
tion or in gestation, in the nest or in the matrix, 
the ovum must perish, that the new life may be. 
Nor in this higher sphere does life simply come of 
death ; it is perpetually sustained by it. 

I derided the affected exaltation of the young in- 
fidel, already mentioned, who was too pure and noble 
to live by the death of an innocent victim: "You! 
Who are you that scorn to live by the death of 
another? You have feasted on death ever since you 
were born. Harvests have been destroyed, by the 
acre, that you might live ; nor harvests only. How 
many fishes of the river, how many birds of the air, 
how many beasts of the field, have perished that you 
might live? You gloat and fatten on death, every 



The Corn of Wheat 231 

clay, and, with this luscious flesh between your teeth 
(for we were at the table), you affect an elevation 
that scorns to live by the death of the innocent! 
Was not this dead lamb, whose flesh you are now 
consuming, innocent? Shame upon your ridiculous 
pretension!" Such vain conceits are the staple of 
infidel sophistry. 

I repeat it: All life — in this world, at least — is con- 
ditioned upon death; it originates in death; it feeds, 
and fattens, and grows, upon death. There is no life 
— absolutely none — that is not the product of death. 
The phosphorescent glow that is in your eye is kin- 
dled by the fuel that death supplies; the flush that is 
upon the cheek of beauty was elaborated from the 
chemistry of death ; the dewy lip that thrills you 
with its kiss has been fashioned from the alembic of 
decay; the vigor of the athlete, the elastic tread of 
the healthy boy, the dexterous finger of the artist, 
are alike its handiwork. We may revolt at it — we 
may be disgusted with it; no difference. We return 
again, with whetted appetite, evermore, morning, 
noon, and night, to feed upon death. Our life roots 
itself in death ; it is conditioned upon death. 

But if life is conditioned upon death in the natural 
world, why should it not be in the spiritual, as well? 
If death, on the plane of animal existence, yields 
physical life, why may it not, on the higher plane of 
a divine humanity, give spiritual and immortal life? 
If the product of death maybe appropriated to the 
uses of sustentation, by the grosser processes of de- 
glutition and digestion in physical nature, why not 
by the nobler appropriation of faith in spiritual 



232 The Corn of Wheat. 



being? If innocent brute-life must be sacrificed to 
save our bodies from perishing, is it irrational to 
suppose that the holy, incarnate Life might be sacri- 
ficed to save our souls from an eternal death? 

Life by death — this is the Christian doctrine of 
Atonement; life by death — this is the order of 
nature. 

I repeat my postulate: The Christian doctrine of 
Atonement lies fully within the analogies of nature, with 
respect to vital phenomena. In the kingdom of nature, 
as in the kingdom of heaven, life is conditioned upon 
death; therefore, the Christian doctrine of Atonement 
is not only a dogma of religion, but also a sugges- 
tion of philosophy. 

But the text contains the doctrine of Atonement, 
not in a general way, merely — life by the death of 
Christ — but it intimates the incalculable fecundity 
of that most wonderful death. The corn of wheat 
dying not only brings forth fruit, but much fruit. 
One incident of the law of vegetable reproduction is 
the amazing rapidity of increase that comes of it, 
and this suggests the overwhelming product to be 
harvested in the last day from the death of our 
blessed Eedeemer. 

Plant one corn of wheat in the best soil and under 
the most favorable conditions; gather the product, 
and plant it, the next year, in the best soil and under 
the most favorable conditions; so gather and plant, 
year after year. I have never made an accurate es- 
timate, but I have no doubt that in ten years you 
would have wheat enough to plant every foot of 
arable land on the face of the earth ; every continent 



The Corn of Wheat. 233 

and every island might be seeded — so wonderful is 
the reproductive power of a corn of wheat. 

It is more than eighteen centuries since Christ 
died. The Fact was planted in history. What re- 
productive power this Fact has had! It took vital 
effect in the minds and hearts of his disciples. They 
scattered the divine Fact over a vast area; they 
planted it in their generation and in the next. Re- 
ceived by faith, it took root in millions of souls, and 
reproduced itself; each generation planted it in the 
next; it often fell by the way-side, or on the rock, or 
among thorns, and yielded nothing; but there has 
never been wanting good ground, prepared by re- 
pentance and faith. There it has taken root, and 
the harvest of divine life has been perpetually re- 
newed among men. Ever and anon new fields have 
been taken in and seeded. Within our century the 
area of cultivation has been enlarged with singular 
rapidity. Many regions of Asia, inaccessible hith- 
erto, are starting into spiritual verdure, and con- 
stantly enlarging harvests of immortal life are 
gathered from this wonderful death. Every soul 
that receives it in faith becomes impregnated with a 
divine and vital righteousness, and renews the seed 
for other planting. Fathers plant it in the hearts 
of their children, teachers in the hearts of their 
pupils. 

Within the last three hundred years the continent 
of America has been added to the field, and now, 
from this continent, other fields are entered in the 
distant Orient. God, incarnate among us, suffering 
for us, going to the cross for us — this is the Fact which, 



234 The Corn of Wheat. 

appropriated by the soul in faith, yields a divine 
pabulum, and men become u partakers of the divine 
nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the 
world through lust." The love of God made mani- 
fest in the death of his Son! Surely this Fact has 
power enough to save. It does save, and reproduce 
itself in augmenting harvests of life and glory. 

The spiritual husbandry increases still. Ages and 
generations to come will be yet more productive; 
and what a harvest will be gathered in at last! 
How long the glorious process will go on no man 
can tell. The time of the end is hid from men and 
angels: it is nowhere revealed in the Holy Script- 
ures. 

There is wide-spread expectation of its near ap- 
proach. This view is insisted on chiefly by Mille- 
narians; they expect Christ to come in his human 
form, and reign visibly on the earth a thousand years, 
before the general resurrection. Many who embrace 
this view are men of exalted character and men of 
learning. For them I have great respect; but I 
am profoundly convinced that the theory is both 
false and of pernicious tendency. I know the 
scriptures they rely upon, but unquestionably their 
exegesis is unsound. 

This doctrine has reappeared in the Church at 
different times in past ages, always accompanied 
with the feverish expectation of the advent in the 
life-time of those who embrace it, and sometimes, 
no doubt, with a carnal view of the great honor they 
would have as the Lord's associates in the kingdom 
he would establish. When the predicted time passes, 



The Com of Wheat. 235 

and the Saviour does not come, the effect is most 
pernicious. 

But this is incidental. I introduced it merely to 
say that I have a conviction that the end is not 
near. Of course I do not dogmatize on this point. 
The times and seasons are in God's hand. I have 
not the least idea how long the world will stand, but 
there are reasons why I think it is only in its in- 
fancy now. So far from being near its end, it is my 
opinion — and I claim for it no greater weight than 
is due to my opinion in the light of the reasons 
I give for it — that we are just now at the clawn 
of the era of Christian civilization, and the prod- 
uct of the seed-planting of Calvary has, up to this 
time, been but as the first handfuls of the great har- 
vest. 

I can give my reasons for this only in part in this 
Sermon. 

It seems incredible to me that God would appro- 
priate four thousand years to preparation for Christ's 
coming, and less than two thousand to his work 
after the advent, when redeeming agencies were at 
their maximum efficiency. This would be like 
making the preface more voluminous than the book, 
the portico more spacious than the house. I cannot 
but think that four thousand years devoted to clear- 
ing away rubbish intimates many thousand years 
of occupancy of the premises. It is not God's 
method to make great parade for small effect, but 
exactly the reverse. The effect is great, the means 
and machinery bearing small proportion to it. The 
great display of history and prophecy, of type and 



236 The Corn of Wheat. 

symbol, which for so long a period preindicate the 
coming of the Lord and his work on earth, are sig- 
nificant of a grand period of saving work after it 
should be fairly inaugurated. 

Who can believe that the Christian civilization 
has culminated in the present condition of the 
world? 

I do not take a sinister or despairing view of the 
state of society now existing. I have no sympathy 
with those who croak about the increasing degen- 
eracy of the human race. There is not a word of 
it true. The world is better to-day than it ever was 
before — more enlightened and less corrupt. I know 
it is customary with many to say that our late war 
w T as marked by greater atrocities than any war of 
former times, and that the public corruption which 
has succeeded it is beyond all precedent. Brethren, 
those who talk thus betray a great ignorance of the 
history of wars, and of the state of society that 
always follows great civil wars. The war was cruel 
enough, no doubt, as war, and especially civil war, 
must always be; it is, in its nature, a savage thing; 
it is a question, largely, of brute force; in its very 
nature, it fosters all the low and malignant passions; 
but our late war had nothing like the diabolical 
character common in wars of former times. History 
is full of instances of besieged cities, when they were 
entered, being given up to pillage. The burning 
of Columbia was awful, and will remain forever a 
blot on American history; but the soldiers were 
not allowed, by official order, to take possession of 
the women of the captured city. Go no farther 



The Corn of Wheat. 237 

back than the havoc made by the Duke of Alva in 
the Netherlands, and you will learn that within the 
era of the Reformation Christianity has done much 
to ameliorate even the horrors of war. 

There has been advancement in the character and 
condition of civilized nations from the dawn of his- 
tory till this time. There may have been moments 
of retrogression and ages of stagnation, but upon 
the whole, and in the long run, the advancement 
has been steady, and in the comparison of distant 
periods it will be seen to be very great. The old 
Greek civilization took its rise from that which pre- 
ceded it in Egypt, and was a decided improvement 
upon it; the Roman civilization supervened upon 
the Greek, and on the utilitarian side, though not 
on the esthetic, was an improvement upon that; 
modern civilization in Europe and America is the 
outgrowth of the Roman, with Christianity added 
as the most important factor; and, beyond all 
question and all comparison, the modern Christian 
civilization is the highest of all in every particular 
that goes to make up the fact of civilization. Its 
morality is purer, and almost infinitely more deli- 
cate; its culture is more generally diffused, and 
broader; labor is better paid; the poorer classes 
are better housed, better clothed, better fed, better 
educated. There was never any thing like it in all 
the past. 

This advancement has taken place mainly within 
the last three or four hundred years. That Chris- 
tianity did not sooner affect the prevailing civiliza- 
tion is not a surprising fact. At first came its 



238 The Corn of Wheat 

struggle with civilized paganism, for the mastery. 
In this struggle it was only half successful. It as- 
cended the throne, indeed, and established itself, in 
name, in the popular belief; but before it did this it 
became, itself, deeply tainted with pagan ideas and 
customs. In the Roman Church, to this day, this 
half-paganized condition continues. Next came the 
invasion and conquest of Christian Europe by the 
Northern barbarians; they conquered the Christian 
nations, but the Church conquered them; though, 
during the long-continued turmoil, the leaven of 
Christian ideas w^as neutralized by the struggle; the 
" Dark Ages " were an inevitable consequence of this. 

Yet the two great redeeming facts were preserved 
in the Church — the Incarnation and sacrificial Death. 
These two facts made an open way, in human 
thought, for the entrance of the love of God, with 
all its ameliorating and civilizing influences. 

Luther did not make the Reformation; he was 
only its instrument. The Reformation began before 
he was born; it was from God — the product of the 
Incarnation and Atonement. Given Christ in his- 
tory, and the effect was inevitable. The struggle 
and agony, in the contest with all-prevalent evil, 
might be protracted, but the beneficent power must 
triumph in the end. It was a grand result to gain 
the mastery over the barbarians; that achievement 
was the prophecy of all that followed. The corn of 
wheat that died on Calvary had amazing powers of 
reproduction to live in such a soil, and to preserve 
its own seed from age to age, for more auspicious 
times; there was a divine vitality in it. No sooner 



The Corn of Wheat 239 

had the affairs of Europe assumed a somewhat stable 
condition than the influence of Christ began to be 
more distinctly felt — working silently at first, and 
unpereeived, yet working with a diffused and godlike 
energy. The "Dark Ages" could not last forever, 
with the Sun of righteousness in the sky. How 
long the fogs and mists rising from the heats of uni- 
versal war might cloud his face none could know; 
but his rays have energy sufficient to dispel all mists, 
however dense. It is only a question of time. The 
blaze of the sun will clear the atmosphere at last, 
and flood the earth with radiance. 

So the renaissance came; the dim, round disc of 
the sun appears through, the rising vapors. If men 
only knew it, the Reformation is assured in the re- 
naissance. Luther was a product of the renaissance, 
and the instrument of the Reformation. God gave 
him at the right time. If he had lived at the time of 
Huss or Wiclifj he could have done no more than 
they; but the quickening had begun. The world 
was ready for Luther, and Luther himself was only 
the fullest, ripest ear of the more vigorous harvests 
now beginning to come in from a soil better pre- 
pared ; but all, all, is from the planting of that blessed 
corn of wheat. 

From that day the advance has been at once rapid 
and steady. But I cannot dwell. The theme is op- 
ulent, but time fails. In every element of civiliza- 
tion, except it may be in the fine arts, the Europe 
and America of to-day are, beyond comparison, ele- 
vated above all former times: indeed, the fine arts 
are more widely diffused. Some of the old masters 



240 The Com of Wheat. 

have never, perhaps, been excelled; but the products 
of genius were never so generally enjoyed. The ad- 
vance is in increasing ratio. No century has ever 
gone forward with such strides as this. 

But we have not yet seen the possibilities of 
Christian civilization. The Bible is a depository of 
seed-thoughts, and these have been scattered broad- 
cast since the middle of the sixteenth century. The 
harvest has been constantly increasing, and is so still. 

Depend upon it, the results of Christian thought 
are not at the maximum yet. Science has not com- 
pleted its discoveries; invention has not done its 
best; the useful arts are yet in a crude state; the 
problem of the relation of labor and capital is to 
have a better solution; morals are not at the high- 
est practicable standard; religion is not dominant 
among men, as it may and must be. The time of 
the end is not yet. Christianity has scarcely yet had 
fair play in the world. 

The time of the end is not yet. The civilizing forces 
of Christianity must have opportunity. Centuries 
are not sufficient. It must have better range and 
sweep; it must have tens of thousands of years — 
ay, hundreds of thousands, for aught I know; it 
must have its millennium. Who shall say that the 
thousand years of the Apocalypse is just one thou- 
sand years ? It would not be in the line of prophetic 
precedent that it should be so. Is it not, rather, a 
definite put for an indefinite time? If so, it must 
be a very long time; for round numbers, if they are 
large, stand indefinitely for numbers much larger 
than the literal statement; or, if we take it on an- 



The Corn of Wheat. 241 

other principle of prophetic interpretation of time — 
a day for a year — it swells the sum to hundreds of 
thousands. But these times and seasons are with 
the Father; we cannot know with certainty. I have 
only the general conviction that, as I have already 
said, the earth is yet but in its infancy, and the 
Christian civilization has, up to this time, given but 
some intimation of the glorious achievements of 
the future. 

The time will never come when every man shall 
be truly converted; but we may believe that in its 
best estate the Church will gather in the great 
masses of men, and bring them to the actual knowl- 
edge of God. Then the highest measures of intel- 
ligence will preside over every department of in- 
dustry; labor will be provided with all possible 
appliances to multiply the results of exertion; and, 
in domestic life, every convenience will be secured, 
as well as the best hygienic conditions; temperance 
and virtue will prevail; scientific agriculture will 
bring every acre to its highest productive capacity ; 
frugality and industry will make the most of every 
harvest. Under such conditions the earth will be- 
come populous beyond any thing we have ever 
imagined; every quarter of an acre, perhaps, will 
support its family. Then shall the crowded earth 
and the overflowing Church, for tens of thousands 
of years, go on to swell the company of the re- 
deemed; the pathway to the skies will be thronged 
through all those ages. 

Then, indeed, will the vision of Patmos be accom- 
plished. There will be a great multitude in heaven 
11 



242 The Com of Wheat. 

which no man could number. What a harvest of 
immortality ! and all from the one corn of wheat 
that fell into the ground and died. What repro- 
ductive power is here! "It bringeth forth much 
fruit." 

There is one passage in the fifty-third chapter of 
Isaiah that thrills me more deeply than I can ex- 
press. It gives a sublimer view of the work of 
Christ, perhaps, than any other single statement. 
"He shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall be 
satisfied." Christ's own gratified contemplation of the 
fruit of his death! 

If, indeed, for so many ages, the earth, watered by 
the blood of the Lamb, is to yield her harvests of 
souls, what a meaning this declaration has! The 
celestial area around the throne of the Redeemer, 
for spaces wider than an angel's vision can sweep, 
will be crowded with the purchase of his blood. He 
shall see them recovered from hell, made holy, made 
immortal, by his pain, the travail of his soul. Then, 
free of the universe, with such powers of knowledge 
and achievement as we cannot imagine, he shall see 
them swarm out through all the breadths of space, 
exploring all worlds, and achieving a destiny worthy 
of the creative purpose of God — worthy of the vast 
expenditure of Redemption. Ah! he shall be satis- 
fied — he shall see of the travail of his soul, and shall 
be satisfied. 

All this is the product of his death. 

Kow we can understand the reason of the terms 
in which our Lord spoke of his own death — the Son 
of man shall be glorified. Heaven is made populous 



The Corn of Wheat. 243 

by the fruit of his suffering! The corn of wheat, 
dying, springs into the glory of the new life, the 
waving verdure of the fields, and the fullness of the 
ripe harvest. From His death life and immortality 
spring up, and created being reaches and realizes 
the consummation of its divinest destinies. 

The glory appears not in countless numbers only, 
but in the grandeur of individual destiny. " It doth 
not yet appear what we shall be [mark the words, 
what we shall be\ ; but we know that, when he shall 
appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as 
he is." Personal being so great, in multitudes so 
countless — all the outgrowth of the Atonement, the 
fruit of His death. Yea, verily, was he glorified in 
dying. Death, the crowning dishonor of a depraved 
existence, is the crowning glory of the redeeming 
Lord; for in him it is the sacrament of life. He 
looks back even upon Calvary, and is satisfied. 

When I was a mere child, in a new region of 
country in the West, there was a backward spring, 
from late frosts, followed by a killing frost early in 
the fall. The Indian corn, almost the only cereal 
then produced on the frontier, was much of it im- 
mature, and it was thought doubtful if the ripest 
had not been so injured as to be unfit for seed. It 
was a time of anxiety among the settlers. There 
were no facilities for transportation, so that it would 
be difficult and costly to bring seed from a distance. 

In the spring succeeding, my father prepared his 
choicest field for planting, with great care. Plow 
and harrow had done their work, and done it well. 
Then came the question of seed. He entered the 



244 The Corn of Wheat. 

old-fashioned log crib to select the soundest ears. 
The corn had stood long in the field to become fully 
dry, and had then been housed without husking. 
In storing it he had put the best in a certain place. 

Child-like, I followed him into the crib. Half 
the corn had been fed away, and the pile of un- 
husked ears lay in a bank with a face that was almost 
perpendicular. Father began at the spot where the 
best of the corn had been placed. I remember 
now how he stripped the husk from the ear and re- 
moved a few grains, breaking them and examining 
the "heart" — the germ-point. If the fresh aspect 
of vitality was wanting it was thrown aside. So, 
many ears were examined, condemned, and thrown 
aside, and the sound ones shelled for seed. In imi- 
tative effort, I, too, tugged at the husk and stripped 
an ear, and broke the grain and examined the 
" heart," not knowing what it was. I remember how 
the pile of loose-lying husks grew, and a cavernous 
opening appeared in the perpendicular face of the 
bank, as the work went on. I remember, too, an- 
other thing, as if it were yesterday: the anxious 
face of my mother appeared at the little crib-door. 
As I gaze upon it now, through the recollections of 
forty -five years, it looks like the face of an angel, 
only the glow and glory seem touched with a shade 
of sadness. " Wells," she said, calling him by his 
Christian name, "can you get seed?" 

Little did I comprehend it then; but it was a 
question of bread for her children, the question of 
questions for a mothers heart. "Can you get 
seed?" 



The Corn of Wheat. 245 

Upon this great human harvest there came an 
early frost — the blight of sin. The inward life felt 
the deadly touch ; the reproductive power of holi- 
ness was destroyed; God's planting seemed to fail, 
and desolation was on every field; hope died; life 
withered; despair reigned; death lorded it over all. 

Bat, blessed be God! he provided one sound ear of 
human corn for seed, and in it was the all-vital germ, 
the divinity, with reproductive efficacy for all the 
ages. Planted in faith, it fructifies the dormant 
spirit, and the blighted harvest is redeemed. 

One sound ear of human corn! Yes. Begotten of 
God, and born of the Virgin, He escaped the frost- 
touch that was upon all other hearts. In him alone 
humanity escaped. Even in the judgment of candid 
infidels he is the matchless Man. Goodness is con- 
summated in him; from the manger to the cross 
there is not one stain. Even the sun has spots, but 
the face of this Sun of righteousness is luminous at 
every point. The labors and sufferings of human- 
ity appear in him, but no human weaknesses of char- 
acter. The most conspicuous object of human his- 
tory, that which has been the most thoroughly an- 
alyzed, the most mercilessly criticised, there he still 
stands without spot or blemish — the only spotless 
thing in human history — the one sound ear of human 
corn. Then there was in him the germ of divinity. 
"God was manifest in the flesh." "In him was 
life," not for himself only, but the seed-life that was 
to impregnate dead souls, to restore the blighted 
spiritual harvest of the earth, and to replenish the 
defrauded granaries of heaven. 



246 The Com of Wheat. 

II. The text contains the doctrine of self-abne- 
gation. 

This is evident from its vital connection with the 
succeeding verse: "He that loveth his life shall lose 
it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall 
keep it unto life eternal." 

The death of Christ, taken by itself, does not and 
cannot save the soul. There must be somewhat in 
the experience of every man, answering to the sac- 
rifice of himself by our Lord, before his death can 
take effect in personal character. I speak this of 
those to whom the gospel comes. How God deals 
with those to whom, for want of intelligence or of 
opportunity, the gospel never comes, I do not know. 
The Bible is not explicit on that point, nor are we 
concerned to know. But his method with us, to 
whom the offer of life in Christ is made, is dis- 
tinctly revealed. It is with this that we have to 
do, and on this point there is nothing obscure in 
the sacred text; there is no room for equivocation 
or evasion: the death of Christ must be responded 
to by an inward sense of death in ourselves. 

The law of self-abnegation is asserted over and 
over again, in the Gospels and in the Epistles — 
by our Lord and by the inspired apostles. 

In our depraved condition consciousness culmi- 
nates in the carnal side of our nature; life is real- 
ized in the flesh. This is what the apostle calls 
the " old man " — the Adam — the fallen nature which 
we inherit from the first man. The true life, the 
spirit-life, is in paralysis; it is dormant — it is dead. 
" We are carnal, sold under sin." The carnal con- 



The Corn of Wheat. 247 

sciousness has destroyed the spiritual. How vital 
it is! Self-consciousness is concentrated in it; and 
how intense it is ! Its destruction is death. This 
is no exaggerated statement; but this dominancy 
of the flesh, this culmination of consciousness in 
carnality, cannot consist with a saved condition. 
Through the carnal life the world rules us, and God 
is dethroned. It is through a vital condition of the 
spiritual nature that God reigns in us. " The flesh 
lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the 
flesh." These two "are contrary the one to the 
other." "If ye live after the flesh, ye shall die; but 
if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds of the 
body, ye shall live." 

In the process .of salvation, before the "new 
man" can be raised up in us, the "old man must 
die," he must "be crucified with his deeds." De- 
pend on this: the conversion of the soul is no mere 
incident, no mere by-play, of a man's life. The 
evil self must go to the cross with Christ, vital as 
it is; the body must be put down, and "kept un- 
der;" in a deep and radical repentance the old man 
must be brought to his death. 

How serious this work of self-abnegation is 
will appear from many passages in the Epistles. 
" The old man is crucified, with the affections and 
lusts." "I am crucified with Christ." "Ye are 
dead." Ah! how complete was the self-immolation 
of this man, Paul! He made no compromise with 
the world; he gave up all! Not less searching 
are the words of St. John: "Love not the world, 
neither the things that are in the world. If any 



248 The Com of Wheat. 

man love the world, the love of the Father is not in 
him. For all that is in the world, the Inst of the 
flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, 
is not of the Father, but is of the world." The 
man who lives for the world does not live for God. 
But is it not like giving up life itself for the un- 
godly man to give up the world? How life culmi- 
nates in pride, in the love of money, in fleshly ap- 
petites, all that goes to make up the enjoyment of 
this world! Bat "he that soweth to his flesh shall 
of the flesh reap corruption." The law is inexo- 
rable: like produces like; eternal life can never 
come from this fleshly life; only corruption can 
come of the flesh ; we must die to this world be- 
fore we can live to God and live forever. The " corn 
of wheat must die" in us, in our -life as it is related 
to this world, before it can bring forth the spiritual 
harvest. We must "hate our life in this world." 
Subjectively, in us, also, life is conditioned upon 
death. "Ye are dead, and your life is hid with 
Christ in God." I am dead, but " nevertheless I 
live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." The 
Christ-life germinates when the flesh-life perishes. 

But this death of the carnal nature is not to be 
understood in any ascetic sense. The carnal life 
cannot be starved out by fastings, nor destroyed by 
vigils. "Keeping the body under" does not mean 
that. It is an experience that comports with full 
bodily vigor and the temperate enjoyment of all 
that God has given us, according to his law; it is 
simply the subjection, the continued subjection, of 
the body, and of all that appertains to our life in 



The Corn of Wheat 249 

this world, to the will of God; it is making the 
"body a living sacrifice to God;" it is not de- 
stroying any physical function, but enthroning God 
over all in our wills — giving up our will to his in 
all things. To be dead to the world — dead in the 
apostle's meaning — is to be in such a temper as 
will "take joyfully the spoiling of goods" and 
" gladly suffer the loss of all things " for Christ's sake ; 
such a temper as will take privation and shame, 
and even death, willingly, if these come as incidents 
of the service of God. It is to be in such a spirit 
as that any enjoyment, any indulgence, that is con- 
trary to God's will, will be not reluctantly, but 
cheerfully, given up. 

The deliverances of our Lord himself upon this 
point are very strong: "If any man will come after 
me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross 
daily, and follow me." Deny himself! how deeply 
Christ asserts himself upon us! The self must sink 
in his presence. Even domestic ties are to be held 
subject to his will. There must be no competition 
with him, even in the love of father or mother, 
brother or sister, husband or wife, or child — to say 
nothing of houses or lands. Upon his demand all 
tenderest and most sacred ties are to be relinquished. 
He that loveth " even his own life more than me is 
not worthy of me." The right hand, or foot, of- 
fending is to be cut off — the right eye even plucked 
out. There can be no doubt self-abnegation is the 
law of recovery from evil to good, from sin to holi- 
ness. The law is inexorable — it is in the very nature 
of the case : the depraved life must perish that the 
11* 



250 The Corn of Wheat 

holy life may take place. There are no exempt, 
cases — there can be none; the corn of wheat must 
die. 

St. Paul represents this twofold death — the death 
of Christ- for us and our death to a life of sin in 
coming into him — by another metaphor: the proc- 
ess of grafting. The good olive-tree is that spirit- 
ual body of which Christ is the life. Into this 
good olive-tree the branches of the wild are in- 
grafted by faith. Though this metaphor was used 
by the apostle for another purpose, yet it covers 
this ground exactly. 

In the process of grafting, vital sources are laid 
bare on both sides. The knife must penetrate the 
stock and open the sources of life in it. Upon the 
branch that is to be grafted into it, the work of 
the knife, the unmerciful knife, must also be done; 
it must be severed from the parent stock; it must be 
henceforth dead to all former sources of life. Vital 
sources must be laid bare in it — no surface-work will 
do; the life must be reached. Then the severed 
branch is inserted into the pierced stock, and just 
where the exposed life-point in the stock touches 
the exposed life-point in the graft, the life passes 
from the one into the other, and henceforth the 
graft lives from the life of the stock into which it 
is set. 

The work of repentance must be done; the old 
life of sin must perish; we must be severed from 
the life we have lived in the flesh before we can live 
the life of faith in the Son of God. 

Christ has suffered for us all; the divine stock 



The Corn of Wheat 251 

stands pierced and ready. Infinite sources of life 
are exposed and made accessible to us; yet we may 
abide in the wild olive-tree and perish. The death of 
Christ alone will not save; there must be, also, the 
death in us; we must pass out of ourselves into him. 
Then, just where the bleeding heart, severed from 
the world, touches the bleeding side of Christ, the 
sources of life opened there flow in upon the soul, 
and quicken it into immortality; the God-life comes 
in all the fullness of its purity and power, and we 
are — wondrous words! — we are "made partakers 
of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that 
is in the world through lust. ,:> 

Let no man imagine that because Christ died for 
him he will, therefore, inevitably be saved. God re- 
spects the great fact of human freedom in the work 
of salvation, as in every other respect where per- 
sonal character is concerned. The Atonement has so 
far secured for us the quickening grace of the Spirit 
as to elevate our moral nature above the mere help- 
lessness of a depraved state, so that our will comes 
into play. Beyond that the responsibility is with us. 
God does not force; he only calls us, and gives suffi- 
cient quickening to enable us to hear and heed the 
call; he respects the essential freedom of man in us, 
as in Adam. He was at liberty to relate himself to 
the divine government, under the law, according to 
his own choice; he could take the attitude of the 
child or the rebel; the whole matter was with him. 
So we have our choice ; we can relate ourselves to the 
divine government, under grace, at will; we have it 
in our power to take any attitude toward Christ; 



252 The Corn of Wheat. 

we can accept him, we can reject him. He is on the 
cross, bearing the sin of the world. But each indi- 
vidual relates himself to Christ freely. He offers to 
cover me with his vicarious merit; he is there, ready 
with his almighty protection. The bolt of justice 
is delivered against me; it is hurled forward with a. 
momentum that is omnipotent; it moves with a 
force sufficient to unseat the sun from his place, suf- 
ficient to disorganize the solar system, sufficient to 
demolish the universe; but I have taken shelter 
under Christ. By repentance and faith I hold him 
in range between the Infinite Justice and me. The 
blow falls on him; I am safe; I never feel it; I am 
not aware of it. I live in him. 

But if I shall, by impenitency and unbelief, put 
Christ aside, and stand for myself before the de- 
scending stroke, I must take it in its immeasurable 
force upon my own head. I am self-doomed; for 
the shield of Almighty Love was there for a refuge. 

The Spirit of life in Christ Jesus is in the world, 
and fills it and embraces it, like the atmosphere. 
Faith opens the soul to it; impenitency and unbelief 
close it. Into the open soul it enters, and breathes 
into it the breath of eternal life; but it never forces 
a closed door; impenitency shuts it out, and dies. 

"He came unto his own, and his own received 
him not. But as many as received him, to them 
gave he power to become the sons of God, even to 
them that believe on his name: which were born, 
not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the 
will of man, but of God." 



The Lord's Supper. 253 



§>ht Jford'a ^u|pr". 



SERMON VIII. 

"For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do 
shew the Lord's death till he come." 1 Cor. xi. 26. 

IT is almost impossible for us, enlightened as we 
are upon all questions of Christian morality, to 
see how it could be that any Church should have 
come to celebrate the sacramental Supper in a sort 
of drunken carousal; yet such was the fact in the 
Church at Corinth. 

But when we recollect that the members of the 
Corinthian Church were recent converts from hea- 
thenism, the matter may be explained. The heathen , 
even the most enlightened of them, had never con- 
nected religion and morals. Their priests were not 
teachers of morals; the philosophers taught morals; 
the priests instructed the people in augnries and in 
the various methods of propitiating the gods. In- 
deed, their religion stood in the way of any sound 
moral instruction; for many of the gods were them- 
selves most impure. They originated in a depraved 



254 The Lord's Sapper. 

imagination, and were, of course, very bad specimens 
of moral character; they were to be propitiated by 
impure rites, and the grossest vices in their worship- 
ers must have been supposed to be looked upon with 
complacency by them. 

It was but natural that when they changed their 
religion these traditional ideas should be eradicated 
slowly and with difficulty. Shocking as it is that 
the wine that represents the blood of our blessed 
Lord should have been used in a drunken revel, yet 
it was inevitable, perhaps, that those who had been 
so lately, and for their whole lives, accustomed to 
religious celebrations of this kind, should fall into 
just that most grievous sin. They would confound 
this solemn Christian feast with the festivals of Bac- 
chus and other profligate gods, that both they and 
their fathers had worshiped from immemorial times; 
they would be slow to comprehend the immaculate 
character of our Saviour, and how repugnant to it 
must be any immorality in the rites of his Church! 
Equally slow would they be to comprehend the neces- 
sary relation between religion and morality in the 
Christian system. The inevitable logic of the Chris- 
tian doctrine would be embarrassed in their thought 
by the mental habitudes of a life-time. Preconceived 
and settled ideas are dislodged slowly and with great 
difficulty. It was impossible to make the disciples 
understand that the kingdom of Christ was not a 
civil government. This law of conservatism, in the 
human mind — this tenacity of established ideas — 
serves a valuable purpose in society; but it was a bar- 
rier in the way of the gospel at first; it hindered the 



The Lord's Supper. 255 

reception of Christian ideas in their full significance 
and purity. 

A new Church, organized among the rudest and 
wickedest populations of our frontier settlements, is 
brought to godly discipline with comparative ease, 
because the converts understand, and have always 
understood, that the man who embraces Christ is 
expected to lead a pure life. Eeligion and moral 
purity are correlative in all their thinking. !N"ot so 
in a Church of newly-converted heathen in the 
apostle's day; they had been accustomed to be, at 
the same time, very devout and very licentious. To 
reduce the Gentile Churches to proper discipline was, 
therefore, a great labor, and it devolved chiefly upon 
St. Paul. 

In this eleventh chapter of the First Epistle to the 
Corinthians the apostle corrects the dreadful corrup- 
tions which he had heard of as having appeared in 
the celebration of the Lord's Supper, at Corinth. 
The terms of instruction and rebuke in which he 
writes are commensurate with the gravity of the 
abuse. The bread and wine set apart as memorials 
of the body and blood of the Lord they had prosti- 
tuted to purposes of sensual pleasure. It was an 
awful perversion of holy things; it was sacrilege! 
The apostle measures his words by the degree of tur- 
pitude he has to deal with: " Wherefore, whosoever 
shall eat this bread, and drink this cup of the Lord, 
unworthily, shall be guilty of the body and blood 
of the Lord." "For he that eateth and clrinketh 
unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to him- 
self, not discerning the Lord's body." These are 



256 The Lord's Supper. 

fearful words. The effect must have been profound, 
and we may well believe that our Saviour was never 
so dishonored by his own ordinance again. 

I have known persons of sensitive conscience and 
a timid nature to refrain from the holy Supper for 
years, under the influence of these dreadful com- 
minations. To run the risk of being " guilty of the 
body and blood of the Lord," and of "eating and 
drinking damnation to themselves," fills them with 
terror. And are not these the dreadful consequences 
of eating and drinking unworthily? and have not 
they a deep sense of being unworthy? How, then, 
can they take this bread and wine? They feel that 
it would be to provoke their own eternal doom. 

To such let me say, You are in no possible danger 
of incurring the dreadful guilt so strongly denounced 
by the apostle, for two reasons : First, it is not the 
unworthy character of the communicant that the apos- 
tle refers to, but the unworthy manner of communicat- 
ing; it is not those who feel unworthy, nor those 
who are unworthy, but those who eat and drink un- 
worthily — that is, in an unworthy manner — who are 
condemned. Indeed, the very particular in which 
the unworthy manner of communicating consisted 
is particularly indicated. They did not, in the act 
of eating and drinking, discern the Lord's body; they 
ate and drank, not in memory of "his most precious 
death," but for sensual gratification. It was a pro- 
fane perversion of the solemn feast of our Saviour's 
death..* They made themselves merry under the 

*Dr. Summers and other learned expositors are of opinion 
that the solemn forms of the sacrament of the Lord's Supper 



The Lord's Supper. 257 

shadow of the cross, and in sight of his mangled 
body; they trifled with the awful mystery of the di- 
vine agony, in the very rite instituted to commem- 
orate it; they ate, not discerning the Lord's body, 
not for the purpose of showing his death, not even 
thinking of it; but for pleasure only. No one, how- 
ever unworthy, that eats with a view to commemo- 
rate the Crucifixion can be guilty of this sin. In 
the second place, there is no temptation to commit 
the sin which these passages condemn, in our pres- 
ent manner of observing this ordinance. Only a 
very small fragment of bread and one sup of wine 
can never so appeal to the palate as to lead to a sen- 
sual observance, and there is no place allowed for 
connecting convivial pleasures with the rite. 

Observe, it is not the feeling or fact of personal 
unworthiness in you that occasions the guilt, and 
you are in no danger of the convivial abuse of the 
occasion. Dismiss your fears, and come and confess 
your dying Lord at his own table. Unworthy! 
Yes, I know you are; so am I; and who is not? 
Come, let us "make our humble confession to Al- 
mighty God, meekly kneeling upon our knees." 

In our great Master's name, I admonish you this 
day. There is greater danger in refusing to com- 
municate than in communicating. Come, and, in a 
new consecration of yourself to him, and in deep 

were observed at the close of the Agape, or Feast of Love, and 
that it was that feast which was prostituted to convivial pur- 
poses. But this does not affect the doctrine of the Sermon; 
for the two were so closely related that the Supper would como 
at the height of the disorder. 



258 The Lord's Sapper. 

humility, confess him in the broken bread. To re- 
fuse is, tacitly, to " deny him before men." 

With a view to an intelligent and profitable par- 
ticipation of the sacred feast, let us consider the im- 
port of the suggestive words of the text. 

This institution has both a retrospective and a 
prospective significance — a backward and a forward 
look. It recalls the most important event of the 
past, and contemplates a no less important event of 
the future. As it is retrospective, it calls to mind 
the humiliation and death of Christ; as it is pros- 
pective, it assures us of his triumphant second com- 
ing in glorious majesty, to judge the quick and 
dead. It suggests at once a memory and an an- 
ticipation; it gives equal inspiration to faith and 
hope. "For as often as ye eat this bread, and 
drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's death till he 
come." 

Let us, then, examine it in both these aspects. I 
call attention, then — 

I. To THE RETROSPECTIVE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE SAC- 
RAMENT of the Lord's Supper. 

1. As this institution is retrospective, it is in the 
nature of a monument. There are monumental 
customs as well as monumental buildings. A cus- 
tom that originates from a fact, and avowedly stands 
for the fact, and conserves it, has this character; it 
is a monument of the fact it conserves. 

There is no better proof of the truth of a fact 
than a custom originating from it and traced back 
by indubitable history to the very date of the fact 
itself. " Leslie's Short Method with Deists ," a book 



The Lord's Supper. 259 

now, I believe, out of print, treats of this point very 
thoroughly. A fiction has not the force, nor can it 
gain the credit at the time, to originate a custom. 

There is no fact more clearly ascertained by au- 
thentic history than that of the observance of this 
Supper up to the very year of the Crucifixion. But 
there is no occasion, really, to attempt the proof of 
the death of Jesus of Nazareth; the most inveter- 
ate skepticism does not question it. The fact of 
his resurrection is called in question, but not the 
fact of his death; but it is of no less consequence 
to us that he rose from the dead than that he died. 
Iu fact, the whole truth of revealed religion hinges 
on the fact of his resurrection. Of course it does 
not fall in with the purposes of this Sermon to un- 
dertake to prove this most vital fact. 

But it is pertinent to say that this monument of 
his death goes far to establish the fact, also, that 
he rose again. His death could never have ac- 
quired such value with his acquaintances as to be 
commemorated among them by a formal institution, 
if it had not been followed by his coming up again 
from the grave. That they should hold his death 
in such regard upon any other hypothesis is incred- 
ible; and if he did not rise, his immediate ac- 
quaintances knew it. But it was precisely among 
them that this custom originated. In the light of 
the Resurrection his death acquired a divine signifi- 
cance and value, and the memory of it was there- 
fore kept alive, most naturally, in the manner he 
had himself directed. 

The death of no other man is perpetuated in 



260 The Lord's Sapper. 

memory by such a monument. The mortuary his- 
tory of our race finds no other instance of a death 
that has such moral force as to embody itself and 
reassert itself in any such way. The fact is excep- 
tional and solitary. No instance of mere mortality 
has ever had such a hold on men, or ever can. 
After the lapse of more than eighteen centuries a 
large proportion of the human family are in tears in 
the presence of this monument. What a magnet- 
ism there must be in the fact it represents! I sub- 
mit that, upon the hypothesis that he was a mere 
man who was crucified at Jerusalem, under the ad- 
ministration of Pontius Pilate, this perpetual inter- 
est in his death is unaccountable. 

As to his birth and social status, he was an obscure 
man. In the line of statesmanship and war, the 
employments in which men usually become histor- 
ical, he did nothing. In one view of them his teach- 
ings may be considered a philosophy; but in the 
field of philosophy men do not acquire such hold 
upon their fellows. It is impossible to imagine men 
all over the world, the low and the high, the rich 
and the poor, the ignorant and the learned, meet- 
ing, ever, at short intervals, to celebrate the death 
of Plato. The only hold Jesus of Nazareth has 
upon men is in a character wholly different from 
that of a statesman, a military chieftain, or a phi- 
losopher. It is differentiated, also, no less from the 
influence of Buddha or Confucius. It is deeper 
than either; it is more vital. Moreover, it is an 
influence arising mainly out of his death. This is a 
capital difference. It calls men together to com- 



The Lord's Supper. 261 

memorate his sufferings. It is an influence most 
felt in the progressive and robust civilization of 
Europe and America. It is aggressive now, after 
all this lapse of years. It is making fresh conquests 
now, in remotest regions. 

The name of Christ occupies larger space in hu- 
man thought at this moment than it ever did before. 
More books have been written about him, friendly 
or adverse, within the last ten or fifteen years than 
ever in the same length of time; more men are 
spreading his name in regions where he was never 
known than ever before. Men cannot keep quiet 
in respect to his claims; they cannot be indiffer- 
ent; no man takes a neutral attitude. He is felt 
everywhere. There are still enemies who wage the 
hopeless warfare upon his cause. In the last cent- 
ury he was assailed in the field of literature and 
philosophy. In this the attack is from men affect- 
ing scientific distinction. But above all the din of 
the conflict is heard the augmenting volume of the 
songs and shouts of his ever-increasing multitudes 
of worshipers. 

The fulfillment of the prophecy hastens: "To 
him every knee shall bow, every tongue shall swear." 
Even those who hate him render a reluctant hom- 
age. He has taken possession of chronology. An 
atheist cannot write a letter, nor sign a bill of 
lading, nor a contract, nor a title-deed, that he does 
not date it Anno Domini — in the year of our Lord. 
And as Christian commerce dominates more and 
more the business of the world, this will be more 
and more widelv felt. 



262 The Lord's Supper. 

The monumental custom is in some respects a 
more imposing structure than the monumental pile. 
Of this custom it is eminently true. The most 
solid masonry yields, however slowly, to the abrad- 
ing influences of time. Even the Pyramids begin to 
suffer. Both the configuration and material of 
those wonderful structures were such as best to 
resist decay; but all in vain. The granite surfaces 
are beginning to feel the tooth of the destroyer, 
and upon some the fatal hand of the iconoclast an- 
tiquary has been laid. It is only a question of 
time. Like all other works of man, they are 
doomed. But this Christian monument stands ma- 
jestic in immortality; its base covers a broader 
area year by year. In recent times it has been ex- 
tended over the continent of America from one 
ocean to the other. Still later the foundations have 
been laid in Australia and India. Within our own 
day it has come to rest on Madagascar and the 
South Sea Islands. It still widens in China and 
Japan. Century after century adds round on round 
to the ascending summit, and now, as we gaze upon 
the vast column, it bathes its head in perpetual 
light. On it, indeed, "the sun never sets." It is 
in the eye of all nations. Millions on millions per- 
petually gaze upon it with mingled awe and love. 

It is no gorgeous or sensuous display of imposing 
ceremonial that perpetuates it. In all evangelical 
Churches the rite is simple and unostentatious to 
the last degree. The followers of Christ meet and 
eat bread and drink wine. It is not the form, but 
the spirit, that preserves it; it is the fact which it 



The Lord's Supper. 263 

conserves that gives it immortality. In it Infinite 
Goodness whispers its love into our hearts. 

2. This institution has a symbolical import. 

There is that in a symbol which corresponds, in 
some particular, to the truth it represents, so that it 
gives a natural expression to the truth. 

As a symbol, the Lord's Supper represents both 
the fact and design of our Saviour's death. He 
died to give life to man. We have here the doc- 
trine of Atonement represented in a sensible form. 

Bread is taken to represent the body of Christ. 
Why bread, rather than some other substance? 
Because bread is the substance chiefly used for hu- 
man subsistence. More than any other, it is the 
pabulum of our life. "I give my body for the life 
of the world." "My flesh is meat indeed." "I 
am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." "In him 
was life." "I am come that they might have life, 
and that they might have it more abundantly." "A 
body hast thou prepared me." " I am that bread 
of life." "I am the living bread which came down 
from heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall 
live forever; and the bread that I will give is my 
flesh, which I will give for the life of the world. 
The Jews therefore strove among themselves, say- 
ing, How can this man give us his flesh to eat? 
Then Jesus said unto them, Yerily, verily, I say 
unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, 
and drink his blood, ye have no life in you." 

In these passages bread is associated with the 
body of Christ for the reason already mentioned. 
Men live by bread, as to their physical nature — they 



264 The Lord's Supper. 

live by tbe body of Christ, as to their spiritual nat- 
ure. He uses bread in his own teaching of the 
doctrine of Atonement, metaphorically; he also uses 
it as a symbol in the institution by which he repre- 
sents this doctrine in a sensible form. 

But bread, in order to become pabulum, must be 
broken. Violence must be done to it; the corn 
must first be triturated between the upper and 
the nether millstones; the flour must be kneaded; 
the loaf must be broken, and reduced by mandu- 
cation and digestion, before there can be assimila- 
tion. So the body of Jesus suffered violence; it 
was broken. The hands and feet were nailed; the 
side was pierced. He yielded himself, helpless, into 
the hands of his murderers. 

Wine also enters into this ordinance as an ele- 
ment. Why should wine be used in it? Is that, 
also, a significant part of the symbol? Is it not 
most strikingly so? It is "wine which cheereth 
God and man," in the language of Jotham; it is 
wine that you give to the faint, and to the dying, 
to revive them. And is not man faint? full of 
wounds and bruises? Is he not dying? What 
shall revive him but the blood? " The blood is the 
life." "Whoso eateth my flesh, and drinketh my 
blood, hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at 
the last clay." "My blood is drink indeed." " He 
that eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, dwell- 
eth in me, and I in him." This blood is the wine 
of God, by which he restores the perishing. It re- 
stores them that are at the gate of death; it in- 
fuses new life into the dead soul. 



The Lord's Supper. 265 

In the Supper the wine is poured out. So the 
blood was poured out. From many wounds it 
streamed forth: from the thorn-points upon his 
brow, from the stripes upon his naked flesh, from 
his hands and feet, and from his pierced side, the 
life-stream flowed — nay, blood came, as if it had 
been sweat, in great drops that covered his body, in 
the garden. 

So this symbolical institution brings the agony of 
Christ, in the most suggestive and touching man- 
ner, into our very siffht. It is intended to make the 
fact real to our hearts. We stand in the garden, 
and see the. prostrate Victim upon the earth, in that 
dread night of anguish; we hear his voice : "0 my 
Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: 
nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt." The 
three disciples sleep; he has no human sympathy; 
but an an^el comes and strengthens him. We see 
the mob coming, with staves and lanterns, led by 
Judas; we see the treacherous kiss. Through all 
the later hours of the night he is in the hall of the 
high -priest's palace. Of the disciples, only John 
and Peter are with him, and Peter denies him in 
his presence. It is the hour of "the power of 
darkness." The coarse servants of the high-priest 
abuse him in brutal sport; they blindfold him, and 
smite him on the cheek, heavy blows, with the open 
palm, and tauntingly demand of him, "Who smote 
thee?" The covering is removed, and he is buf- 
feted ; blow on blow, from hard, heavy fists, is de- 
livered on his sacred face. When the morning 
dawned, how braised and swollen it must have ap- 
12 



206 The Lord's Supper. 

peared! Beliold him, the following day, in the 
hands of a besotted multitude, tried before the gov- 
ernor, condemned, his back laid bare and scourged, 
every stroke of the cruel lash bringing blood ! Be- 
hold him, crowned with thorns, the points inward, 
piercing his brow! Behold him clothed with pur- 
ple and derided with mock homage! He is hurried 
up and down the street, a spectacle of degradation. 
See that face, bruised by the buffeting of the night, 
and streams of blood from the points of the thorns 
trickling over it in red stripes ! Ah ! if you had seen 
him then, you would have known what the prophet 
meant : " His face was so marred more than any man, 
and his countenance more than the sons of men." 

His hands are bound with cords, the back of them 
against the wood of the cross; the point of the nail 
is set against the palm; the heavy hammer falls; the 
"blunt point hreaks through, and the ragged edges 
tear their way, inch by inch, under repeated strokes; 
the cross is set up, and the full weight of his body is 
upon the nails. the agony ! He cries, " I thirst! " 
and they give him vinegar, mingled with gall; he 
hanp's between two thieves. 

What horror is this? Darkness blacker than mid- 
night covers the earth; the sun is gone out. What 
a shock! There is an earthquake that rives the 
granite masses of the mountains; the veil of the 
temple is rent from the top to the bottom. 

The mob and the soldiers have possession of him; 
the disciples have fled; even John and his mother 
are thrust back by the malignant throng who gloat 
over his helpless agony, and mock him : " If thou be 



The Lord's Supper. 267 

the Son of God, come down from the cross;" "he 
saved others, himself he cannot save." He could 
have summoned twelve legions of puissant angels; 
hut little did they helieve it. His hour is come; 
the cup may not pass; he must drink the dregs; 
he must tread the wine-press of the wrath of God 
alone; of the people there is none to help him; 
even celestial sympathy fails — the last angel that 
came to comfort him has lied. There is no aid in 
earth or heaven for him; only the sympathy of the 
Father still supports him. 

But what new, unutterable throes are these ? Even 
now he seems startled, as if some unlooked-for hor- 
ror had overtaken him. Abandoned by angels and 
good men, and in possession of his tormentors — he 
could bear all that; the sun itself, in the heavens, 
refuses his light — he could bear that; but hear that 
cry! It is as if all the agonies of eternity had found 
voice: "My God, my Gocl, why hast thou forsaken 
me?" The mystery of that dread moment no man 
can penetrate. What passed between the Father 
and the Son I dare not conjecture; yet we can un- 
derstand nothing less than that the Son was remitted 
to the penalty he had assumed. The sins of the 
whole world were accumulated upon him, and the 
vicarious agony culminated in that sense of being 
forsaken by the Father. The Father a gave him up 
for us all " — gave him up to have personal sense of 
that word, " Depart," in which the utmost soul-death 
is realized. 

"I believe that he suffered under Pontius Pilate." 
The neophyte at the altars of the Church has recited 



268 The Lord's Supper. 

this in his "Credo" for immemorial ages. "He suf- 
fered for me" — the sin-stricken soul has found par- 
don and healing in it. "He suffered" — it has been 
the consolation of dying millions; and now, to-day, 
the bread broken and the wine poured out, with 
silent, symbolic pathos, repeat to our hearts, "He 
suffered." We feel ourselves standing by the cross: 
we see the countenance, marred more than the sons 
of men ; we see him under the insupportable burden 
of our sins; we feel as if, after such a sight, we 
could never, never sin again; we fall prostrate, over- 
whelmed with self-accusing grief, to realize the re- 
assuring rapture of a quickened faith, and exclaim, 
" He suffered ! he suffered ! " 

But we have not yet exhausted the symbolical sig- 
nificance of the Supper. We have seen that bread 
and wine are the basis of this sacrament, represent- 
ing the life-giving power of the body and blood of 
Christ; we have seen, also, that the bread is broken, 
to represent the fact that violence was done to our 
Lord's body in order that we might live by it, and 
the wine poured out to represent the shedding of 
his blood for our salvation. But before bread can 
become nutriment it must be eaten, and wine can 
never revive the dying till they drink it. "VVe not 
only break the sacramental bread, but eat it; we not 
only pour out the wine, but drink it. 

In like manner there must be spiritual appropria- 
tion of the death of our blessed Redeemer by each 
one of us, or we can by no means live by it; in the 
strong metaphor of his own declaration, we must 
eat his flesh and drink his blood. I need not guard 



The Lord's Sapper. 269 

you against the absurd and monstrous error of tran- 
substantiation. The efficacy of the broken body and 
the shed blood is appropriated by faith; Christ can 
be no otherwise received. He has himself, in the 
sixth chapter of St. John, clearly indicated the meta- 
phorical import of his words about eating his flesh 
and drinking his blood : "And Jesus said unto them, 
I am the bread of life : he that cometh to me shall 
never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never 
thirst;" "And this is the will of him that sent me, 
that every one which seeth the Son, and believeth 
on him, may have everlasting life; and I will raise 
him up at the last day." These statements, in the 
immediate context, clearly define the metaphor. 
Eating the flesh and drinking the blood represent 
the appropriation of the vicarious sufferings of 
Christ by faith. 

When the Jews were offended at what he said 
about eating his flesh and drinking his blood, he re- 
plied, "What and if ye shall see the Son of man 
ascend up where he was before? It is the Spirit 
that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing; the 
words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and 
they are life. But there are some of you that be- 
lieve not." So does the Lord rebuke the gross, lit- 
eral interpretation of his words. 

Faith is the soul's act of receiving and assimilat- 
ing whatever may be offered it. As faith receives, so 
unbelief rejects. The saving spiritual food of the 
Atonement is appropriated by faith, and cannot be 
otherwise appropriated; for faith is the soul's act of 
receiving. 



270 The Lord's Supper. 

The bread and wine are not transformed into the 
body and blood of Christ, to be literally taken into 
the stomach, to pass into the circulation. This view 
materializes religion; the Bible nowhere teaches it. 
Spiritual sustentation is not received in such away; 
it cannot be. 

If, in communicating, our faith and love are quick- 
ened, then we do feed on Christ. His death worketh 
in us mightily when our faith is strong; and this 
outward representation of the broken body and shed 
blood brings the scene of the Crucifixion so near to 
us, and makes it so real, that it does strongly tend to 
quicken faith. 

We see him heave, and hear him groan, 
And feel his gushing blood. 

"Ye do show the Lord's death." In this sacra- 
ment the Church makes perpetual exhibition of the 
cross in the world; Christ's death is set before the 
eyes of all. Many an unconverted man, whose sen- 
sibilities are proof against the appeals of the sermon, 
is melted when he sees his neighbors at the table of 
the Lord; the symbol appeals to him more cora- 
mandingly than the exhortation. I cannot doubt 
that this exhibition of the great fact of our faith 
has gone far toward giving Christianity the power it 
has among men. 

This institution is not only monumental and sym- 
bolical — 

3. It is also commemorative. It is a memorial not 
only as it is a monument, but in a much more touch- 
ing and personal way. Just the night before his 



The Lord's Supper. 271 

death he instituted the Supper, and said, "This do 
in remembrance of me." 

Nothing affects us more than to receive a memento 
from a very dear friend when he is dying; nothing 
is so prized as such a gift. Perhaps you now have, 
somewhere under lock and key, a souvenir, the gift of 
your mother, placed in your hand the last hour of 
her life. "My son,'' she said, as she gave it to you, 
"take this, and remember me by it as long as you 
live." Her cold fingers touched your palm ; you can 
never forget it. That object is of no value in itself; 
it is of no value to any one on earth but you ; there is 
not a man who would give you iive dollars for it; but 
there is not gold enough in California to buy it; to 
you it is invaluable — it is your mother's dying love-gift. 

Christ had the Twelve around him; they were 
the nucleus of the Church in the Christian dispen- 
sation. To-morrow he will die for them; he loves 
them with an everlasting love; he will never have 
them all thus together again; he breaks the bread, 
and gives it to them ; he pours out the wine, and they 
receive it. "Do this in remembrance of me." It 
was his dying love-gift to his Church. Not to the 
Twelve alone did he give this memento of his love; 
they were a representative company; they were his 
Church ; and to his Church he committed the precious 
token. Every member in all the coming ages was 
present to him; you and I were there; we were as 
fully present to his prescient eye as Matthew, or 
Lebbeus, or James; he loved us, too, as he loved 
them; he would suffer for us as for them; it is our 
most precious memorial of his love. 



272 The Lord's Supper. 

If we were present to his e} T e then, so is he present 
to our faith now; as to his heart we were present at 
his table then, so is he present with us here. We 
take the love-gift to-day as if from his own hand. 
How reverently we handle it, not with superstitious 
awe, as if it were his very flesh, but witli love and 
worship — not of it, but of him who gave it! 

This hallowed token was committed to the Church 
in circumstances of tenderness" the most affecting — 
circumstances that heighten its import and give it 
the greater value. There is something in eating and 
drinking together that makes it an expression of 
love. I know not how it is, but the fact I know: 
in all ages, and amongst all peoples, the rudest and 
the most cultivated alike, eating together has been 
the sign of good fellowship. How eminently and 
sweetly social was the nature of our Lord! Now 
and then he went away, leaving behind him all men, 
even his disciples, that he might have solitary com- 
munion with himself and with the Father; but for 
far the greater part of the time he was with the dis- 
ciples, and often in the company of others. It is 
remarkable that in such brief accounts of his life 
there should be so much said about his being at din- 
ners and suppers — at feasts. On such occasions he 
was always the center of interest — the heart of the 
scene. What a glow of hallowed feeling surrounded 
him among those who were his friends! 

How deeply affecting is the last meal of a family 
together! Did you ever witness such a scene? I 
once knew a charming Christian family, in which 
there had been no death, and from which there had 



The Lord's Sapper. 273 

been no departure, until the eldest son was twenty- 
four years of age, and the second about twenty-two. 
It was a happy household; there had always been 
the utmost harmony between the husband and wife, 
and among the children. It seemed impossible for 
the young men to break away, such was the domes- 
tic magnetism; but the time had come; the parents 
felt it; the sons felt it; the fruit was ripe, and must 
drop from the tree; the young men must go. The 
inward personal impulse, at last, has become stronger 
than the attraction of the old hearth-stone. 

After long and anxious consultation, it has been 
determined that the two oldest shall go together to 
California. The day is set; the outfit is complete; 
at nine o'clock they are to leave the threshold — per- 
haps forever; they have received the last word of 
wise and loving admonition; they have been com- 
mended to God, in the morning-prayer, by a former 
pastor, who is invited now, especially for the occa- 
sion, to invest the scene with the atmosphere of re- 
ligion. 

They are at breakfast — the last meal at which they 
will all meet around the table! For twenty-five 
years the father and mother have met thrice a day at 
this table, and, one after another, through the years, 
these children — nine — appeared in their places; new 
places had been made, but no old one had ever been 
vacated. I have the scene before me now. The boys 
made a brave effort to seem happy; the father, at 
the foot of the table, distributed the meats with few 
words, spoken in a mellow voice; the mother, at the 
head, dispensed the coffee in silence, the tears drop- 
12* 



274 The Lord's Supper. 

ping over from the eyelids; the sisters could scarcely 
eat, and could not speak at all ; the younger boys were 
somewhat more loquacious, in a subdued way; only 
the prattle of the two-year old, in the high chair on 
the right hand of his mother, was wholly uncon- 
strained. There were hearts well-nigh bursting; for 
is not this mother preparing coffee for James and 
William, and handing it to them across the table, for 
the last time? The last meal of an unbroken fam- 
ily! For a quarter of a century there has been 
nothing but love and joy at this table until now; 
but now it is a deeper love, but with what grief! 

Our Lord, during his ministry, lived with, the 
Twelve in a sort of domestic way. The}' were 
nearh T always together; they had a common purse 
— Judas carried the bag; they were a family, with 
all the intimacies and confidences of such a relation- 
ship; they had constantly, though leading a wan- 
dering life for the greater part of the time, met at 
the same tables; no deeper love had ever character- 
ized any circle. But the last night was approach- 
ing, and " having loved his own, he loved them to the 
end." He had chosen them out of the world; they 
were as the apple of his eye. 

He directed two of them to go before, from Beth- 
any, into the city, and call on a man they would 
meet bearing a pitcher of water, to show them "the 
guest-chamber where he might cat the passover with 
his disciples." In the large upper room that he 
would provide they were to make ready. What a 
tone of tenderness vibrates through all these direc- 
tions! 



The Lord's Supper. 275 

All things are ready, and now lie has "his own" 
around him at the table for the last time. I can im- 
agine myself a witness when the Master easts his 
eye slowly, and with unutterable love, around the 
table; I can even now hear the tremulous but com- 
manding voice, the vehicle of immeasurable tides of 
sensibility, as he says, "With desire have I desired 
to eat this passover with you before I suffer." It loas 
the last meal. lie was consciously, already, under 
the shadow of the cross; to-morrow he must suffer. 

It was in the midst of such a scene of overwhelm- 
ing tenderness that he consecrated the bread and 
wine to be a memorial of his love; for he was 
at the point to die, not on his own account, but 
for them. His voluntary death would be the divine 
expression of his love, but the broken bread and 
the wine poured out were appointed as the touch- 
ing token and reminder of it through all the ages. 
This was the love-gift, so suggestive, so simple — just 
the love-gift to be kept and handled "in memory 
of him." 

So memorable, so full of love and sadness, was 
the scene on that last night, at that last Supper, 
when Jesus instituted this commemorative sacra- 
ment. "In remembrance of me;" these words, 
so sad, so commanding in their sweetness, so over- 
mastering in their gentleness, owe much of their 
power to the hour and the associations of the utter- 
ance. They have come down, vibrating through 
the generations, bringing responsive melodies and 
sobs from countless multitudes in many lands. They 
are but an undertone of holy love, yet the crash of 



276 The Lord's Supper. 

demolished empires, in all the terror of their down- 
fall, has not been able to drown it. It is no less 
distinct now than when John heard it, leaning on 
the all-loving breast; and the pulses of it will min- 
gle with the hoarse echoes of the trumpet-call that 
will bring all the dead to judgment. 

"Christianity is the religion of sorrow;" these 
are the words of a world-renowned literary man. 
In a sense they are true; its author was " a man of 
sorrows, and acquainted with grief." But if he had 
written, " Christianity is the religion of love," he 
would have uttered a deeper truth. Brahmanism is 
mystic; Buddhism is austere; Confucianism is cold; 
Mohammedanism is harsh; but Christianity is the 
voice of love. To it we owe the statement, "God is 
love " — a sentence of only three words, but the great- 
est that was ever uttered. " God so loved the world, 
that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever 
believeth in him might not perish, but have everlast- 
ing life." Christianity is love melted into compas- 
sion; it is the embodiment of divine pity. God 
incarnates himself among the lost and miserable, 
participating in their misery, that he may save 
them. It is incarnate tenderness; it is pity ex- 
pressed in human forms, speaking in a human voice, 
and appealing to our deepest sympathies; so it is 
eminently the religion of the heart, and thus com- 
mands us through our sensibilities. It is just this 
that gives the sacramental Supper its value; it is a 
supreme expression of sensibility. It comes to us 
from the death-agony of our groat Redeemer; it is 
the last avowal of love from his breaking heart. 



The Lord's Supper. 277 

How blasphemous is the audacity of the driveling 
priest who converts the table into an altar, and en- 
acts the solemn farce of offering the very Christ 
upon it in the form of bread and wine ! !N"o human 
priest can offer him; he "offered himself without 
spot to God," and that "once for all," and now 
" ever liveth to make intercession for us." Having 
suffered for us, he gave us this bread and wine, a 
most blessed memorial of his love; and now to see 
a poor, vain mortal " playing priest " with these 
dear tokens of his death — it is shocking, it is mon- 
strous. ~Nol no mortal hands can sacrifice him; he 
is, himself, both Priest and Sacrifice; only this 
symbol of his body and blood has he left, saying, 
"This do in remembrance of me." We obey the 
injunction, lovingly and in humility; we eat and 
drink, "discerning the Lord's body." Through the 
symbol we see the Saviour himself; we "feed on 
him by faith," and our faith is quickened in the act; 
our love is fed, and we know him more aud more 
deeply; the tenderness of the dying token subdues 
us; it is a divine magnet; our hearts respond; we 
yield; love conquers us. AYe attach ourselves to 
him, and, in the bonds of a most holy love, we will 
be his forever. 

While yet his anguished soul surveyed 

Those pangs he would not flee, 
What love his latest words displayed — 

" Meet and remember me ! " 
Remember thee ! thy death, thy shame, 

Our sinful hearts to share ! 
mem'ry, leave no other name 

But his recorded there ! 



278 The Lord's Sapper. 

And when these failing lips grow dumb, 

And mind and mem'ry flee, 
When thou shalt in thy kingdom come, 

Jesus, remember me. 

We will now consider — 

II. The prospective significance op this sacra- 
ment of the Lord's Supper. " Ye do show the Lord's 
death till he come" 

The advent and sacrifice initiate the great work 
of recovery and restoration; the second coming con- 
summates it. While he was among us, in the flesh, 
he began his work; ascended to heaven, he still 
prosecutes it; but it will not be completed till he 
shall come again, at the end of the world, to gather 
his people from the four quarters of the world, and 
to judge the quick and the dead. The final coming 
is given in the first, which is the prophecy and as- 
surance of it. The Lord of life and glory could not 
die but to triumph over death. The corn of wheat 
dies only to create life; the planting is the prophecy 
of the harvest. The two facts are correlated; they 
belong to each other, as parts of the same design. 
!N"o one plants but in expectation of the harvest; 
Christ could not die but to rise, and reign, and con- 
summate his own work. The second coming is, 
therefore, assured in the first. 

This memorial is also, then, a prophecy; it is the 
feast of hope, as well as the feast of memory; it re- 
calls the planting, and presages the ingathering. 
" Your sorrow shall be turned into joy." This Sup- 
per is the scene of sorrow; but it is sorrow in tran- 
sition — sorrow turning into joy. Darkness is upon 



The Lord's Supper. 279 

the scene; but its brow is softened by the dawn, and 
the day is at hand. We go to the cross to remem- 
ber him, and to wait for his coming again. 

Consider, first, the contrasts between the first coming 
and the second. 

1. At his first coming he ivas born of a woman. The 
human expression was predominant during the time 
he was on the earth; not only so, but he assumed 
humanity in very lowly conditions. See him in the 
manger; see him a fugitive in Egypt; see him in the 
peasant's cottage, and in the poor carpenter's shop, 
in the humble village of Nazareth. He is not even 
taught letters; even during his ministry, while he is 
doing his mightiest works, he is surrounded by the 
lowly; " he is despised," and men " esteem him not;" 
"he is rejected of men, a man of sorrows, and ac- 
quainted with grief." At last, he is hunted to the 
death, and suffers with the wicked; pain and igno- 
miny know no deeper abysses than those into which 
he descended. 

But at his second coming he " shall descend from 
heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and 
with the trump of God;" he shall appear in the full 
expression of his divine nature; "all the angels of 
heaven" will accompany him; he shall be revealed 
in "all the glory of the Father;" earth and heaven 
will be full of his glory. 

2. He came at first as the Lamb of God, to take away 
the sin of the world; he was the sin-bearer; he came 
to suffer, to make atonement; he came to take our 
place before the law, to be the Victim of our pen- 
alty ; he humbled himself, and became obedient unto 



280 The Lord's Supper. 

death, even the death of the cross; he suffered as a 
lamb — meekly, unresistingly. 

Bat he shall come the second time without sin unto 
salvation; he will be "the Lion of the tribe of Ju- 
clah," "mighty to save;" he will not be the meek 
Victim, but the triumphant Deliverer; he will judge 
the nations; he will dispense the awards of eternity. 
The dead will be raised to meet him, and to receive 
their doom at his lips; he "shall be revealed from 
heaven with his mighty angels, in flaming fire tak- 
ing vengeance on them that know not God, and that 
obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ." 
"Every eye shall see him, and they also which 
pierced him; and all kindreds of the earth shall wail 
because of him." He will come to consummate his 
work. The redeemed shall be gathered from the 
four quarters of the earth; with their Lord they 
shall ascend the highest heaven, and enter into their 
great reward. The thrones of heaven will be at his 
disposal, and be given to his people. 

3. He came at first to be despised and rejected; but 
when he shall come the second time he shall subdue 
all enemies, and put them under his feet; he "shall 
take to himself his great power, and reign " over all. 
The devil shall be cast into the bottomless pit; he 
shall be bound forever, and suffered to go out and 
deceive the nations no more. Wicked men " shall be 
severed from among the just," and cast down with 
the prince of darkness into his abode. 

4. At his first coming one star heralded the event 
and guided the wise men to the place where the 
Babe lay; an angel, also 3 brought the news to the 



The Lord's Supper. 281 

shepherds, and a company of angels in the upper 
regions glorified the air with celestial melodies. 

But at his second coming the frame of nature 
shall he broken. Not the earth only shall be shaken, 
as at Sinai, under the concussion of this trumpet- 
blast, but also heaven ; and all things that are shaken 
shall be removed; only that which cannot be shaken 
shall remain, and that is the kingdom which we have 
received — the kingdom of Christ. The heavens shall 
be folded as a worn garment, and changed; the earth 
shall be burned up; the very elements shall melt with 
fervent heat. Then, from the demolished heavens, 
and from " the cinders of the burnt earth," God shall 
make " new heavens and a new earth, wherein dwell- 
eth righteousness." 

Consider, secondly, the interest of God's people in the 
first and in the second coming. 

1. In the Atonement they have pardon of their 
sins and reconciliation to God; but they must still 
submit to the grossn esses of an earthly condition and 
to the dishonors of the grave; but at the last day 
they shall enter into eternal life; the body shall be 
redeemed from death, and fashioned like unto their 
Lord's glorious body. 

2. Now we are identified with the Master in his 
humiliation; we confess him among men; we are 
reproached with his reproach; we accept the cross; 
we join ourselves to the lowly Redeemer — the Naza- 
rene, the rejected and despised Son of Mary. 

But in that day, as we have confessed him before 
men, he will confess us before his Father and the 
holy angels. Here we accept the cross; there we 



282 The Lord's Supper. 

shall sit on the throne. Here reproaches have heen 
heaped on our heads for his sake; there his hand 
shall honor us with the coronation of immortality. 
Here we suffer with him ; there we shall reign with 
him. 

The redeemed people of the Lord shall he above 
the angels ; they shall be at the very side of Christ on 
the throne; for is not he our kinsman — "our Elder 
Brother? " The city of God shall be our home; the 
palace of the great King shall be our dwelling, and 
we shall be like children in their father's home. 

Even when he was on the earth our Lord looked 
forward, with infinite yearning, to that day. " Fa- 
ther," he said, " I will that they also whom thou hast 
given me be with me where I am; that they may be- 
hold my glory." They had witnessed only his degra- 
dation, and he longed for the time when they should 
see his glory. 

This expectation touched and tinted even the 
"hour, and the power of darkness," at the last Sup- 
per. In the midst of the deathly sorrow there was 
also the presence of the immortal hope ; it consoled 
even him, and even in that hour. The awful present 
suggested the glorious future. As he broke the bread 
and poured out the wine he shuddered, for they to- 
kened his agony. "I will drink no more the fruit 
of the vine" with you. All the endearments of life 
are at an end now; this is the last; death ends the 
scene. But he was consoled; the glorious end of it 
all was. in sight. "I will not drink henceforth of 
this fruit of the vine, until that day when I drink it 
new with you in my Father's kingdom." Ah! he "en- 



The Lord's Sapper. 283 

dured the cross, despising the shame," "for the joy 
that was set before him" 

So, when we come into the shadow of the cross, and 
sit down at the table there, in the chill atmosphere 
and in the darkness of death, we, too, turn our tear- 
blinded eyes toward the glorious future, and realize 
the joy of a triumphant hope; we "do show his 
death till he come" Then we shall "see the King in 
his beauty," and "be with him where he is;" we 
shall see his glory, and be ourselves partakers of it. 
While the universe is going to wreck, worlds tum- 
bling upon worlds, we shall see him coming. Angels 
come and go about his presence, swift as lightning, 
to do his bidding — striping the skies with fire; the 
grave cleaves above me; he, sweeping down the sky, 
is the first object I behold; the earth takes fire as I 
ascend; but his eye is upon me. !N"ot for terror of 
a world in flames, but for love of him, I fly upward, 
" above the fiery void," shouting, Lo, this is my God ! 
I have waited for him, and he has come to save me. 

These are the hopes that spring from the blood of 
the cross; these are the hopes that kindle into rapt- 
ure at the table of our Lord. In his glory he will 
remember us, as we remember him in his shame this 
day. 

Finally, this text is in the nature of a prophecy; 
it assures us of the perpetuity of this observance. 
So long as the world stands this sacred feast will 
continue. "Ye do show the Lord's death till he 
come" — "till lie come" 

TTho, upon merely rational grounds, could have 
ventured to say that the simple eating of bread and 



284 The Lord's Supper. 

drinking of wine, by the assembled congregation, 
would continue as a custom of the Church for twenty 
years? But the apostle boldly predicted that it 
w r ould never cease; eighteen hundred years have al- 
ready vindicated the divine assurance. The Supper 
which took its origin at the cross will never lose its 
hold upon the Church ; the sun of the last day will 
shine on thousands seated at the table of the Lord; 
the "trump of God" will surprise men at the feast. 
At the first there were twelve only, with the Master, 
at the table; now the table is set in all lands, and 
crowded with grateful thousands ; and when he shall 
come he shall find it spread over every continent 
and all the islands of the sea. He parted with the 
Church at the table, in tears; and when he shall 
come again to take his people to himself, he shall 
take them from the table; he left them, as he shall 
find them, "feeding upon him by faith:" and, hav- 
ing nourished them by his own body, and sustained 
them by the "juices of the living Vine," he will take 
them up from their places at the feast to drink the 
new wine with him in his Fathers kingdom. 

At the table, to-day, we are in the midst of the 
ages ; we form a part of a vast panorama. The scene 
opens at Calvary, in thick darkness; it moves on 
through successions of light and shade; it discloses 
our day ; still the shadow falls on our bowed heads 
and throbbing hearts; but the light increases, and 
the last movement of the canvas reveals Mount Zion, 
blazing with uncreated light. 



A Dedication Discourse. 285 



% Dedication Dtstonru. 



SERMON IX. 

"Thus saitli the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways. Go 
up to the mountain, and bring wood, and build the house; 
and I will take pleasure in it, and I will be glorified, saith the 
Lord." Hag. i. 7, 8. 

HAGG-AI was a prophet with a single function. 
The prophetic spirit was on him for only 
one purpose. There is large suggestion in this fact. 
When the Spirit of God came upon a man for one 
sole object, it must have been one of no little mo- 
ment. The object in this instance was to hasten 
and assure the rebuilding of the temple. 

At the time of the conquest of Judea by the 
King of Babylon the temple erected by Solomon 
was completely destroyed. All the more influential 
classes of the people were forcibly removed to Baby- 
lon. At the expiration of seventy years Cyrus 
made a very liberal provision for the return of such 
as desired it to their native land. He provided, 
also, large resources for the rebuilding of the tem- 
ple. Of course, but very few of those who had 



286 A Dedication Discourse. 

been carried away seventy years before were among 
those who returned. But the intense nationality of 
the Jew was transmitted from sire to son even in a 
foreign land. Perhaps it was even augmented in 
the children. We whose parents were emigrants to 
new regions remember with what depth of feeling, 
at the fireside, they related stories of the " old 
home," until our hearts almost broke with longing 
to see the place. It seemed to us different from any 
other place on earth; it was invested with the 
weird light of an imagination kindled from the 
heart; we never thought of its soil as being com- 
mon earth, of its light as being ordinary sunshine, 
nor of its people as the mere every-day sort of men 
and women. 

In the young Jew, born in exile, this feeling must 
have amounted to a passion. The intense feeling 
of the captive parents, in their fireside stories of the 
"goodly land," was, no doubt, communicated to the 
impressible young hearts that listened. It was the 
land that God had blessed — the land flowing with 
milk and honey. Its hills were alive with heroic 
memories. A thousand battles had disputed the 
title of their ancestors, and a thousand victories had 
defended it. God had given it to them. One had 
chased a thousand, and two had put ten thousand 
to flight. They had rested under the shadow of 
the Almighty; he had wrought confusion among 
their enemies, so that they fell upon each other in 
their own camps, and his people were delivered. 
Divine powers had suddenly appeared upon the 
scene whenever they were at the last extremity: 



A Dedication Discourse. 287 

God had camped about them, and drawn around 
them lines of circumvallatiou and contravallation, 
and defended them with a will and a prowess which 
were actually omnipotent. Then there was Jeru- 
salem, the city of David, the city of God, where the 
temple was, the place of holy solemnities. The 
robed priests had been there, and the Urim and 
Thummim, mysterious media of divine knowledge; 
and there had been the ark of the covenant, with 
the mercy-seat shadowed by the wings of the cher- 
ubim; there, too, had been the daily sacrifice, and 
the altar of incense, with acceptable odors perpet- 
ually wafted up to heaven. 

But all was desolation now, and the mother's 
wondrous story was all broken into fragments by 
her grief as she gave it to her children punctuated 
with sobs. Thus to the Jew, born in Babylon, the 
holy land was as dear as to the captive torn away 
from his native soil. It was his home, too — the land 
given to his fathers, and to him, by the God of 
Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Jacob; it was the 
home of his soul, and the accident of his birth in 
Chaldea did not make it other than an alien land. 

Never was the tide of human sensibilities at such 
flood as when the captives returned to the city of 
God. The memories of a thousand years swept 
their heart-chords at once. God had witnessed all 
their tears; they had suffered for their sins, but he 
was merciful even yet, as he had been to their fa- 
thers. He had heard their groaning, and now their 
eyes would see the land of delights, and the city of 
the great King. But they would find no temple, 



288 A Dedication Discourse. 

and what was Jerusalem without the temple! The 
conditions were just those in which the sentiment 
of piety would be most acutely realized; the pur- 
pose of an entire devotion was in every heart; 
selfish aims were forgotten. The house of the Lord 
must be rebuilt the very first thing; till that was 
done they could live in hovels or in tents. 

Upon their arrival in Jerusalem they concen- 
trated their resources, and fell to work with the 
greatest energy and zeal upon the temple. The 
demolished walls were to be restored before any pri- 
vate enterprise could be thought of. 

But when did it ever happen that uncommon zeal 
did not provoke opposition? Enemies appeared, 
false reports were made, and the civil arm was in- 
voked to put a stop to the work, lest it should be 
the center of an insurrectionary movement. The 
opposition was successful ; the building was arrested 
by authority, and the returned captives, under com- 
pulsion and with regret, abandoned the undertak- 
ing. For several years nothing was done. 

The people betook themselves to private industries 
and enterprises. They prospered. The Hebrews 
were a prosperous people; they have been so in all 
ages and lands. If there is an exception to this, it 
is in the case of the Jew in Palestine in modern 
times. They are, and have ever been, as a race, dis- 
tinguished for thrift. They were no sooner fairly 
at work again, after the captivity, than they began 
to prosper. The whole country was astir with new 
life; the city became animated with a growing 
commerce; men began to amass money and to 



A Dedication Discourse. 289 

build houses for themselves; elegant residences ap- 
peared on all sides, and the house of God was for- 
gotten. 

But after a time all civil interference with the 
work on the temple ceased; nothing hindered now; 
it might be resumed at any moment. But, alas! 
there was not a hand raised toward it. There was 
no disposition to renew the work; if any one men- 
tioned it, his neighbor would reply, "The time is 
not come, the time that the Lord's house should be 
built." What a contrast, this coldness and reluc- 
tance, to the spirit with which they had begun! 

But is it not often so? Some special occasion 
arises, and men's zeal becomes aroused; they show 
the most remarkable signs of self-sacrificing devo- 
tion ; but it is paroxysmal ; the occasion that ex- 
cited the zeal passes, and they lapse into the old 
indifference. 

So in the case before us. The return of the cap- 
tives filled them with tenderness and joy; they over- 
flowed with gratitude, and were ready to express it 
any way. They were eager to rebuild the temple, 
but time had now elapsed; private demands upon 
their exertion had diverted thought and feeling. 
They were beginning to prosper; they had become 
thoroughly interested in their own affairs. It was 
inconvenient now to devote themselves to the work 
on the temple; they could not break off from their 
own affairs, and suffer them to be deranged; they 
had laid plans of business that were only half com- 
pleted; they were building houses for themselves 
that were not yet finished. After awhile they would 
13 



290 A Dedication Discourse. 

be ready to devote time and means to the Lord's 
house, but not now. 

" Then came the word of the Lord by Haggai 
the prophet, saying, Is it time for you, ye, to 
dwell in your ceiled houses, and this house lie waste? 
Now therefore thus saith the Lord of hosts: Con- 
sider your ways." 

He addressed himself to all the people, but espe- 
cially to the governor and the high-priest. He de- 
nounced God's displeasure against them for their 
selfish neglect of his house. Already his judgments 
had begun to fall on them; their harvests were 
short; they sowed much and brought in little, and 
there was mysterious waste in what they did gather. 
"Ye looked for much, and, lo, it came to little; and 
when ye brought it home, I did blow upon it. 
Why? saith the Lord of hosts. Because of mine 
house that is waste, and ye run every man unto 
his own house. Therefore the heaven over you is 
stayed from dew, aud the earth is stayed from her 
fruit. And I called for a drought upon the land, 
and upon the mountains, and upon the corn, and 
upon the new wine, and upon the oil, and upon 
that which the ground bringeth forth, and iipon 
men, and upon cattle, and upon all the labor of the 
hands." 

The word took effect. Zerubbabel the governor, 
and Joshua the high-priest, led the way. Their ex- 
ample was contagious; " the people obeyed the voice 
of the Lord their God, and the words of Haggai 
the prophet, as the Lord their God had sent him, 
and the people did fear before the Lord." God was 



A Dedication Discourse. 291 

pleased, and charged the prophet with a " message 
unto the people, saying, I am with yon, saith the 
Lord." Thus encouraged, their interest rose to en- 
thusiasm, "and they came and did work in the 
house of the Lord of hosts, their God." 

They were in danger of flagging after a time, 
when the walls began to rise, for it became appar- 
ent to the old men that this house for magnificence 
was "as nothing" in comparison with the former. 
But the prophet was ever present with them, with 
the Lord's message. "The Desire of all nations" 
should come into this house. "The glory of this 
latter house shall be greater than of the former, 
saith the Lord of hosts; and in this place will I give 
peace, saith the Lord of hosts." When the house 
was finished the people shouted; but some aged 
men, who had seen the former house, wept for the 
contrast, so that it could not be known which pre- 
vailed, the voice of shouting or the voice of weep- 
ing. But the day approached when the splendors 
of the typical dispensation should be displaced by 
the purer splendors of the Incarnation. The Son 
of God himself would appear in this house, and 
the place of his footsteps is "more glorious than the 
mountains of prey;" all the gold, and gems, and 
winged cherubim of the former house were as 
nothing to his presence. The glory that is revealed 
to faith is the "glory that excelleth." All the splen- 
dors that blaze upon the eye are lost in it like stars 
that are brilliant in the night, but disappear in the 
morning. Thus by the promise of the "Desire of 
all nations," who should come into this place and 



292 A Dedication Discourse. 

" give peace," did Haggai strengthen their hands, 
and the work was completed. 

There is, indeed, a very clear and distinct proph- 
ecy of Messiah in the Book of Haggai. Yet my 
first statement is true: the single function of this 
prophet is that of the temple-builder. The Messi- 
anic predictions are given as only incidental, and 
subservient to the main purpose; yet are they none 
the less important for that reason, perhaps even 
more so. Certainly, coming in this connection, they 
show the very great importance of the work the 
prophet had in hand — the building of a house for 
God. 

We can scarcely exaggerate the importance of 
this matter. The interests of religion are concerned 
in it in a vital way. I shall call your attention to 
the following propositions: 

I. The xecessity of providing houses of worship. 

II. God takes pleasure ix the work, and is glo- 
rified. 

I. The necessity of jiroviding houses of worship. 

Erery thing that establishes itself and maintains its 
footing in the world must be domiciled. Every princi- 
ple must be embodied in some way, in order to de- 
liver itself with effect upon human society. 

All life, in this world, comes into expression 
through organizations; every thing must be incar- 
nate in some way, in order to become known. Re- 
ligion is no exception to this law; it must declare 
itself in organic forms; it must organize its vo- 
taries, and have established institutions which give 
expression to its vital nature. Otherwise, it would 



A Dedication Discourse. 293 

be lost to human knowledge, and become inoperative 
among men; the subtle life-principle would be un- 
perceived, and disappear from the forces of society. 

Furthermore, all organizations require it, as a 
condition of permanency and power, that they shall 
have domiciles. They must be put between four 
walls, and under a roof; they must not lie about 
loose. They must have head-quarters, a definite 
place, where their business can be transacted, and 
their records kept; they must have shelter, and a 
place of resort — there must be a rallying point. 

Ko business can be carried on without a domicile; 
iti a fugitive, unsheltered condition it would soon 
come to nothing. Every merchant must have his 
store; he cannot do so much as a commission busi- 
ness without, at least, an office; customers must 
know where to find him; he must have a con- 
venient place to meet them, and certain necessary 
furniture and appurtenances. He must keep ac- 
counts, and have a proper place of deposit where 
they may be in safe keeping. You would be not a 
little surprised if an insurance company should an- 
nounce itself ready for business, and yet have no 
place of business; it would require no prophet to 
predict the end; it would not take it six months to 
die — in fact, it would be still-born. Think of a 
bank setting up for business without a domicile! 
You cannot imagine such a thing. 

Every Masonic lodge must have its hall, and so of 
Odd-fellows, temperance organizations, literary so- 
cieties — every organization that attempts to get foot- 
ing and do any thing in the world. They must 



294 A Dedication Discourse. 

get in out of the weather; they must be protected 
from intrusion; their ceremonials require shelter; 
their appurtenances must be under a roof. The 
members must know where to assemble, and it must 
be where they can assemble under an}^ stress of storm 
or temperature. £s"o lodge of Grangers thinks of 
undertaking to exist without providing cover for 
itself. 

Legislatures, government offices, courts of justice, 
boards of aldermen, boards of trade — every thing- 
must be domiciled. 

The Church is no exception; the nature and pur- 
poses of its organization require shelter for it as 
much as any other. Each congregation must have 
its well-known accustomed place and times of meet- 
ing; its very existence depends upon the habitual 
and frequent assembling of its members; both for 
its public assemblages and more private communion 
there must be a house; there must be habitual main- 
tenance of the ordinances and sacraments; its so- 
lemnities all require for their due and suitable ob- 
servance proper architectural accommodation; the 
teaching function of the ministry requires it. 

Whatever organization or interest it maybe that 
wants sufficient vital force to create a domicile for 
itself will soon vanish into thin air; it is too atten- 
uate to subsist in the conditions of time: if it is too 
feeble to get itself in by the fire, somewhere, nothing 
can save it; out in the cold and in the tempest it 
must perish; and a thing so feeble, with so little vi- 
tality, will die readily; there can be no great power 
of resistance, no great tenacity of life. Every thing 



A Dedication Discourse. 295 

that has sufficient vitality to render it of any use in 
the world will be able to find shelter for itself. 

More than that : an organization notifies the world 
of its own character in the architectural expression 
it takes on. If vitality is full and large, the house 
will show it; if it is infirm and inefficient, the tum- 
ble-down house will proclaim the fact. 

I have known healthy Churches that had no bet- 
ter place than private houses, or school-houses, to 
meet in. They were, however, in new regions of 
country, recently settled, and were young Churches, 
that had not had time to gather resources; but I 
never did know a Church that attempted that fugi- 
tive sort of existence as a permanency that did not 
fall into decay. I never knew a Church, in the 
midst of a prosperous community, to thrive without 
providing a permanent and respectable house of 
worship. In a house either too small or too shabby 
to be respectable it gives evidence of one of two 
facts: either that it is feeble in numbers, or that re- 
ligion has a hold on the consciences and hearts of 
its members altogether too slight for reproductive 
power; it will soon do better or become extinct; its 
architectural expression is the sign of dissolution; 
there is not life sufficient to maintain itself. 

When a Church can do no better it must lease or 
rent; but that will hardly do for permanency. As 
an expedient, and in an exigency, it is better than 
nothing — provided, always, that it looks to better 
things; but every Church ought, if possible, to hold 
real estate in fee. It is a bad thing to be at the 
mercy of a landlord. Ownership of real estate gives 



296 A Dedication Discourse. 

a certain dignity and air of permanency that have 
great value; it gives a feeling or* respectability and 
confidence, and this makes a very appreciable factor 
in the prosperity of a Church. There is something 
powerfully conservative in a real estate title. An- 
chor a Church in the soil, and you add greatly to its 
fixity and tenacity; it will bear a much heavier 
strain than it could otherwise do. It is much more 
difficult to destroy a Church so circumstanced than 
one that is afloat; there is a place in which every 
member feels that he has a special interest. I have 
known a few instances of Churches falling into de- 
cline that would certainly have been fatal but for 
the ownership of a house; if they had been renters 
they would have given up in despair; but the few 
faithful survivors had their house, and that held 
them, and, holding on to existence through the dark 
period, the time of revival and rejuvenescence has 
come to them; they have had a new lease of life and 
a new career of prosperity and usefulness. 

There is in man an instinct of house-building; 
from the earliest times, and among the rudest peo- 
ples, it is traced. The family makes itself a home — 
if not a house, a hut, or at least a tent; each has its 
own place, where it shuts itself in. And so soon as 
civilization advances sufficiently to create commu- 
nity interest, and to realize corporate needs, houses 
for other purposes than family shelter are built. 
Every interest creates itself a house so soon as it 
becomes sufficiently vital, and from the moment it 
begins to build it becomes a fixed fact in the life of 
the people. The religious, no less than other forms 



A Dedication Discourse. 297 

of consciousness, comes into prominence and power 
in this way. 

From the first the followers of Christ had their 
customary places of meeting; at the very first they 
were probably, for the most part, private houses. 
In times of persecution it was often necessary to 
meet in very obscure places, and to come together 
furtively; the cover of dead hours of the night was 
often courted; but there was the inevitable instinct 
which sought some place of common resort; so 
soon as circumstances allowed they began to build. 
Wherever they were allowed to assemble openly and 
unmolested they had their houses, and, at an early 
clay, began to build costly houses. 

There is a question of conscience as to the cost of 
houses of worship. Mr. Wesley advised the Meth- 
odist people strongly against building costly houses. 
After they are built they involve heavy incidental 
expense. The reason Mr. Wesley gave was charac- 
teristic of him, and, you will allow me to say, suggests 
matter of serious reflection for us at this time. "If 
we build costly houses," said he, "then rich men will 
become necessary to us. Then farewell to Methodist 
discipline, if not doctrine, too." That is an enslaved 
Church that finds it necessary to court and hold on 
to its rich men because they cannot he spared from 
the assessment list. What corruptions creep in at 
that door! Have there not been cases of men being 
tolerated in practices altogether repugnant to their 
Christian profession, for the reason that their con- 
tributions were too large to be dispensed with in the 
financial estimates? 

1 Oifc 



298 A Dedication Discourse. 

I cannot doubt that in some cases there is too 
great an outlay of money in building churches, es- 
pecially in the great cities. I know some houses 
that are too large — they are unwieldy ; it would have 
been better if the money had been put into two 
houses; more people would have been served, and 
they would have been better served; but, then, the 
congregation that builds one of these costly struct- 
ures could not have been induced to build except for 
its own accommodation. The two houses would not 
have been built, even if the one had not cost half so 
much. 

In smaller towns and country-places, the tendency 
is, perhaps, in the other direction; old and inade- 
quate houses are used too long. But there is great 
improvement of late years; many villages and coun- 
try-places have neat houses, sufficiently commodious 
— houses which are a worthy expression of the piety 
of the communities which they serve. I think a 
good general rule is that the house of God should 
compare well with the best class of houses among 
the people who worship in it. 

Some houses in the country are miserably kept; 
I have seen them with no fence surrounding, and 
with the door standing open, habitually; I have act- 
ually known sheep, in one or two cases, to resort to 
them for shelter; often have I seen months' accu- 
mulation of dust and filth upon the floor. But I 
am glad to believe there is general and great im- 
provement in this respect, in the last few years, in 
the West; and I know but little of country churches 
except in the West. 



A Dedication Discourse. 299 

The architectural design of a house must conform 
to its uses. You require one plan for your residence, 
and another one, altogether different, for your shop 
or store. The court-house and the bank cannot be 
constructed upon the same plan; the insurance-office 
and the town-hall are very diverse structures; the 
dwelling must provide a room for culinary opera- 
tions, one for storage of domestic supplies, one for 
a dining-room, one for the family sitting-room, a 
more pretentious one for special occasions and formal 
visits, with apartments for privacy and repose; the 
merchant must have his store contrived for the ad- 
vantageous display of his wares; and so of the 
structure for every different purpose — it must be 
suited to its uses. 

So, also, must the house of God be; it has a spe- 
cial and peculiar purpose, and its construction must 
be in adjustment with its object. 

I have known a few instances of Protestant 
churches constructed after a design not at all suited 
to their purpose, but tending strongly to defeat it, 
just to gratify a fancy, and to affect the antique in 
architectural taste. Some old, mediaeval church in 
Italy served for the model — a church projected upon 
the idea that the Christian ministry is a priesthood, 
that worship is the principal thing to be provided 
for, and that worship in the congregation is to be per- 
formed with scenic effect. To this idea the struct- 
ure was conformed; but this, precisely, rendered it 
unfit for use as a Protestant church. 

In the Protestant conception of it, the ministry is 
not a priesthood, nor is worship the principal thing, 



300 A Dedication Discourse. 

nor is scenic effect to be studied in public worhip. 
Worship is an important part of the public service; 
but its perfection is in its simplicity. !NTor is the 
minister in any sense, in his official character, a 
priest. He does not enact the solemn and blasphe- 
mous farce of transforming the bread and wine into 
the body, and blood, and soul, and divinity of Christ, 
and offering them as such, in the mass, on the altar, 
a sacrifice for the sins of the people; it is no part of 
his prerogative to hear a private confession of sin, 
and pronounce upon it judicially. The Protestant 
minister makes none of these monstrous assump- 
tions. He knows that Christ offered himself once for 
all on the cross, that the doctrine of t ran substantia- 
tion is a shocking and most wicked pretense, and 
that the pretended offering of the host for the quick 
and the dead is a blasphemy never exceeded in enor- 
mity since the world began. 

The chief function of the Christian minister is 
that of a witness and teacher. The terms of his 
commission define his office: "Go ye into all the 
world, and preach the gospel to every creature; he 
that believeth and is baptized shall be saved; but he 
that believeth «not shall be damned;" " Go ye, there- 
fore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the 
name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
Ghost: teaching them to observe ail things whatso- 
ever I have commanded you : and, lo, I am with you 
alway, even unto the end of the world." The min- 
ister of Christ preaches the gospel. There lias been 
no official priesthood on the earth since our Lord 
ascended. The Aaronic priests were typical of him ; 



A Dedication Discourse. 301 

but he is the only true Priest, and his priesthood 
abideth ever. 

There is a general sense in which all God's people 
are priests — " a kingdom of priests,' 7 offering " the 
sacrifice of praise to God continually" — but the 
minister has no distinct priestly function. He is a 
preacher, Avith authority to administer the simple 
rites of the Christian faith, and to lead in public 
worship ; he is naturally a leader in religious mat- 
ters, and has a certain authority in the government 
of the Church. 

According to the word of God, then, the Christian 
minister is a preacher. 

But what has this to do with the structure of 
houses of worship? Much, and in a very important 
way: it involves the fact that the main thing in the 
house of God is the auditorium. Every such house 
should be designed under the influence of this su- 
preme consideration. Sinners are awakened and 
converted, and the Church is edified, the man of God 
thoroughly furnished unto good works, through the 
preaching of the word. The word of God is the 
chief instrument in the salvation of men, and in the 
immediate work of awakening men it is the word, 
not so much as it is written as through that wonder- 
ful instrument, the human voice. God has espe- 
cially chosen the voice of the living minister — the 
preacher of righteousness — as the vehicle of the 
living word; it is to be preached a with the Holy 
Ghost sent down from heaven." 

Auditory effect, then, is the chief thing to be se- 
cured in the design of a church. I suggest several 



302 A Dedication Discourse. 

things which the building committee ought to keep 
in mind: 

First. The proportions of the auditorium should 
be such as experience has proved to be the best for 
the purpose of aiding a distinct articulation. 

Second. The space between the preacher and the 
congregation ought to be no greater than necessary. 

Third. If there be galleries, they ought not to be 
high, but contrived so as to bring the occupants into 
the best relation to the preacher. The Congrega- 
tionalist Church in St. Louis, corner of Washington 
and Ewing avenues, is the most perfect building, in 
this respect, I have ever seen. 

Fourth. By no means let the floor of the pulpit 
be too greatly elevated for the size of the house. 

Fifth. Kever exhaust the stock of a lumber-yard 
in building the pulpit. Do not construct it as if 
the chief design were to erect a barricade, with 
a view to protect the congregation against the 
preacher; rather give the word opportunity. The 
gospel is the power of God unto salvation; if it 
kills, it is only that it may make alive; let it have 
way; beware of expensive contrivances to break 
the force of it. It seems to me I have wasted suf- 
ficient nerve-force in overcoming the dead space be- 
tween the pulpit and the pew to have awakened a 
thousand sinners. 

But in eveiy essential respect there is improve- 
ment in recent times. Indeed, the Church has 
cause of congratulation in the present taste and 
good sense of the people in the matter of church- 
building. Allow me, in conclusion on this point, 



A Dedication Discourse. 303 

to advise every building committee, especially in the 
country and towns where they do not propose to 
pay a professional architect for a design, to procure 
the Rev. W. M. Patterson's book on " Church Archi- 
tecture" before they settle upon a plan. It will 
amply repay the cost. 

II. In the building of a house for his name, God 
takes pleasure, and is glorified. 

" Go up to the mountain, and bring wood, and 
build the house, and I will take pleasure in it, and I 
will be glorified, saith the Lord." 

" I will take pleasure in it." Thrilling words to 
the heart of the true Christian ! 

The Christian consciousness is a filial feeling to- 
ward God. " Except ye be converted, and become 
as little children, ye shall not enter into the king- 
dom of heaven." "Because ye are sons, God hath 
sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, cry- 
ing, Abba, Father " — crying, Father, Father. God's 
Spirit in his people creates in them the child-feeling 
toward him. Nothing is more deeply felt in the 
consciousness of a child than an exquisite satisfac- 
tion in the approbation of its father. In the enjoy- 
ments of childhood there is scarcely any other so 
profound, so entirely satisfying, as this; nor is there 
any other fact of Christian consciousness so full as a 
sense of the forgiving love and approbation of God. 
Now, he has revealed to us, in the text, the fact that 
he takes pleasure in the labor of his children in 
building a house for the honor of his name; the 
thought they give to it, the concern they feel about 
it, the time appropriated, and the labor bestowed, 



304 A Dedication Discourse. 

have his warm approval. With infinite compla- 
cency he sees them busied in such an affair. 

In the summer of 1875 I dedicated a church in 
the Prickly-pear Valley, Montana Territory. It 
was a case in which this text was strictly and liter- 
ally applicable. In that region there is no timber 
in the valleys; it is found exclusively in the mount- 
ains, while the arable land lies in the valleys only. 
Farmers, therefore, are under the necessity of bring- 
ing their timber, generally, from considerable dis- 
tances. So when the exigences of the community, 
in the instance I speak of, demanded a church, the 
people got together, and with axes and teams did 
actually "go up to the mountain," a distance, I sup- 
pose, of twelve or fifteen miles, "and bring wood, 
and build the house." I could imagine the Infinite 
Father looking down and smiling upon the pious 
labors of his people. Nor is he less interested in 
the toil of those who love him when they are en- 
gaged in the erection of an humble country chapel 
with united labor, according to their ability, than 
in the contribution of thousands by a wealthy peo- 
ple to provide for themselves a gorgeous temple. 
It is not mere imagination that sees the light of 
his love glinting upon the polished ax-blade as it 
swings in the sunshine, or hears the deep, paternal 
tone of his voice in the rustle of the breeze in the 
forest foliage overhead. The beaded sweat upon the 
brow of the stalwart laborer is a crown of honor, 
for it is the sign of his faith in God which brings 
upon him a profoundcr sense of the presence of the 
Father of spirits. Returning in the evening to his 



A Dedication Discourse. 305 

repose, the cool air soothes and caresses him more 
tenderly, as if the well-pleased Father Lad sent 
invisible seraphim to fan him with their wings. 
All the forest- voices about his path bring him mes- 
sages of approval, and even the silence is the bene- 
diction of the Almighty upon his restful spirit; his 
labor has put him into conscious communion and 
affinity with all holy things — a communion which 
relieves the labor of all grossness and transfigures it 
till its raiment seems glistening white. " I will take 
pleasure in it" — what a sense of peace the world 
cannot give comes upon the soul upon which these 
words fall from the voice of God! 

But can it be so? Does our little labor interest 
Him who builded the universe, and whom the 
heaven of heavens cannot contain? Can He whose 
ideas are archetypes of grandeur and beauty, in all 
their multitudinous possibilities, take any pleasure 
in the poor product of the human brain and hand? 
I answer, !S T o! not as they are mere physical prod- 
ucts of art — no! but as they are expressions of 
something else, Yes! A boy at labor in the shop, 
exhausting all his skill in imitation of his father's 
handiwork, has clone his best; his heart is in it, and 
he has done what he could; it is a clumsy, crude 
imitation, and will scarce serve any purpose, but 
the filial heart is aglow with generous endeavor. Is 
the father interested in such an abortion of art? 
~Nol — yes! As it is a mere expression of art, IsTo ; 
but as it interprets the boy to him, as it proves the 
generous devotion of his heart, and is the sign of 
potential skill, the proof of undeveloped powers, 



306 A Dedication Discourse. 

the prophecy of high achievement, Yes ! a thousand 
times, yes! There is a great tide of approving 
pleasure swelling in the father's heart. 

The magnificence of our little work, as it is mere 
magnificence, can, of course, he nothing to the In- 
finite World-builder. The most exquisite tracery 
of chisel and pencil, as it is mere art, can awaken 
no interest in Him who has put more work upon a 
feather of down in the fringe of a butterfly's wing, 
both in the carving and coloring, than appears in the 
finish of the most gorgeous temple. But as these 
sincere endeavors are the prompting of the filial 
heart, God does take pleasure in the puny efforts of 
his child. Nay, more : they are the crude apprentice- 
work which gives proof, already, of a coming great- 
ness which will satisfy even the Maker himself. 

Best of all, these services rendered to God are the 
sign of faith. His child begins to recognize him, to 
be conscious of him, and to respond to his voice; 
it begins to smile when he caresses it, and to be 
happy when he notices it. Who knows what the 
beauty of this mere bud of intelligence is in the eye 
of its Maker, just as it begins to open? The imma- 
ture, closed petals begin to be conscious of the so- 
licitations of the vernal warmth; they are already 
tremulous under the kisses of celestial sunbeams, 
and the child-life brings all parental raptures upon 
itself as it hides in the abysses of undeveloped 
being the possibilities of immortal blessedness and 
achievement. The very inadequacy of the present 
disclosure gives the inexpressible charm which is in 
all vital beginnings. What abysmal tendernesses, 



A Dedication Discourse. 307 

what joy-depths, are sounded and agitated by the 
word "father" the first time it is dropped into par- 
ental consciousness from these artless lips ! There 
is a magic in the infantile voice in comparison of 
which all the wisdom of maturer lips is prosy and 
commonplace; its very imperfections and blunders 
are more delightful and exquisite than the faultless 
flow of Attic culture. 

Yea, verily, God does take pleasure in the house 
that is builded for his name, though it be the rude 
log structure of the frontier settlement. It is hu- 
man infancy beginning to be conscious of its father; 
and is he not pleased ? Truly, our anthropomor- 
phic conception of the divine consciousness is doubt- 
less most imperfect, or even more deeply faulty — 
it may be so inadequate that it is not correct; but 
the Bible encourages it, and no doubt it is the best 
that we are capable of in the present childhood of 
our being. God is love, and we know love only in 
its human forms; so God's love took the human 
form in the Incarnation, that we might be able to 
perceive it. Even if we blunder, it is the best we 
can do, and he sees it as the beginning of a God- 
ward consciousness that is to go on from this artless 
inadequacy even to perfection . One thing we know : 
that is, that he assures us of a condescension, and 
pity, and tenderness toward us, of which the pater- 
nal heart is the best expression we are able to re- 
ceive. "Like as a father pitieth his children, so the 
Lord pitieth them that fear him; for he knoweth 
our frame, he remembereth that we are dust." He 
will come, he docs come, info the poor houses we 



308 A Dedication Discourse. 

build to meet us. Though in comparison of the 
heavenly architecture they he but the toy-houses of 
little children, the great and good Father will de- 
light himself with his children even there. Did you 
ever see a father enter the frail structure erected by 
his little ones, sit down on the rude seat, and drink 
make-believe coffee from an acorn-hull cup? Never 
was he more pleased than then! never were they 
more joyful! What they had done was such as 
they could do. As for him, he takes pleasure in it; 
and they — why, they are in ecstasies. 

Is this too trivial for illustration? Trivial! these 
passages of love between a father and his children 
trivial! If such is your verdict, you see life only on 
the surface. 

I have heard all your learned talk about the im- 
mutability of God as a necessary logical corollary 
of the Divine Perfection. The Infinite, the All- 
perfect One can never be affected by incidents; the 
Infinite Blessedness can never be other than it is — 
Infinite Blessedness; the accidents of finite life can 
never affect it. He can be in no relation to the 
coming and going of finite individuality that will 
disturb, or in any wise affect, his consciousness. All 
this, no doubt, is very logical and very profound, 
with much other speech about the unconditioned; 
yet I have a suspicion that if these philosophers 
could only see the Infinite Life in its deepest import 
they would see it in vital sympathy with all life, and 
that it is, and must be, in conscious relations with 
all life in all its conditions, and that Infinite Perfec- 
tion does not involve mere placid monotony of con- 



A Dedication Discourse. £09 

sciousness; rather, it supposes a perfect sense of all 
that is. The Infinite Pity is conscious of me, and in 
it is the fullness of parental care. 

But by searching we cannot find out God; we do 
know so much as this, however, that when we de- 
light in his will he takes pleasure in our ways; that 
when we build a house for his honor he takes pleas- 
ure in it, and meets us, and condescends to the 
childish endeavor of our homage; he comes to us in 
the ordinances of his house; he listens to our half- 
articulate utterance of his name, and answers the 
call, and caresses us with such assuring endearments 
that we feel almightiness to be turned to love, and 
overflowing upon us — even as. 

After you have once been consciously with God, 
in his house, the very aspects of the place are dif- 
ferent; echoes of the loving voice seem to linger, 
and the atmosphere is tremulous with inaudible 
melodies; the walls, the ceiling, the windows, the 
chancel, seem all to be perpetually pronouncing a 
silent benediction upon you; it is as if the word 
"Peace" were written all over the place in invisible 
characters. God has declared his pleasure in your 
work, has visited you in the house you have built 
for him, and has put his signet upon the walls, so 
that the very "walls are salvation, and the gates 
praise." 

"And I will be glorified, saith the Lord." 

How can the All-glorious be glorified by me? Can 
my poor work add to the grandeur of his name? 
Most surely not; but his people and their work are 
the media through which his glory is made known 



310 A Dedication Discourse. 

on the earth. He utters his glory through them; 
they give it expression; they declare it abroad. 

All the perfections of his nature constitute his 
glory; there is some utterance of it in the manifes- 
tations of his power and wisdom in the works of his 
hands; but its fullest utterance is in the work of 
Christ. The creation of physical nature, in such 
masses, scattered through such spaces, and with such 
adjustments, declares his " power and Godhead;" but 
nature is without significance until it is inhabited by 
life. The mansion may be beautiful, but the do- 
mestic life within lends it all its charm. Not in 
unconscious matter, but in living spirit, is the true 
glory. The highest display of the divine glory is 
not made in geometry and natural history, but in the 
ordering of his government with respect to man. 
What he proposes and does for the destiny of intel- 
ligent creatures is the crowning exhibition of the 
infinite excellency; and the gift of his Son for the 
recovery of a lost world is the crowning fact of all. 
" God so loved the world, that he gave his only-be- 
gotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should 
not perish, but have everlasting life." As this great 
fact becomes more widely and deeply fixed in the 
faith of men, God is glorified. He is glorified in the 
building of a house of worship, in several ways: 

1. It subordinates the physical to the spiritual; it 
puts property to spiritual uses; it redeems money 
from sordid meanings, and turns it to high account; 
it <roes to establish the kingdom of God in the realm 
of nature; it extends the domain of the gospel, and 
asserts the dominancy of divine things; it puts 



A Dedication Discourse. 311 

tongues into wood and stone, to proclaim the name 
of God and Christ; it gives voice to dumb beams and 
walls, and makes them eloquent of eternal things. 

Whoever passes along the highway, and sees this 
house, will be reminded of all holy things ; it will ar- 
ticulate the word of God to him, in most impressive 
utterance. The most profligate, who never enter 
the house of prayer, will see it, and, in spite of them- 
selves, they will think of sin and of a Saviour. 
Children will gaze upon the tapering spire, and it 
will look like " an angel's finger pointing toward the 
sky." The resonant bell will sound forth the Lord- 
ship of the Son of God over an area of many square 
miles, in tones both sweet and solemn. 

The erection of a church is the homage of both 
labor and capital to Christ; in it a man's toil, or that 
which he has toiled for, is consecrated. The God- 
ward consciousness is never more fully realized than 
in this, nor the divine sovereignty more fully as- 
serted. What a man plans, and delves, and sweats 
for, goes to God; he is honored by both brain and 
muscle — the mind and heart — the whole man; thus 
he is glorified. 

2. God is glorified in the provision made for the 
preaching of the gospel. The Church is a convenient 
place of resort for all who are disposed to hear the 
word; it invites all Avho may be in reach to habitual 
audience of the truth, and sets wide its door to the 
thoughtless straggler who may be passing. 

The public preaching of the word of life is an or- 
dinance of God. Private approach, dealing with 
men one at a time — the affectionate urgency of indi- 



312 A Dedication Discourse. 

vidua! appeal — is not to be dispensed with; it is 
often successful where the public discourse has failed. 
It too often happens that men become accustomed 
to the formalities of the public service, and are little 
affected by it; the preacher seems to them just to be 
addressing* the crowd; they lose themselves in the 
mass — sink all sense of individual interest, bein^ 
only integers in the sum of auditors — and do not 
feel, each for himself, that the word is meant for 
him.; there is, therefore, need for individual effort. 

But while there is a certain truth in all this, yet 
it remains that the public ministry of the word is 
the chief instrumentality in the work of saving 
souls; since the sermon on the day of Pentecost this 
has been so; it is God's own ordained means to this 
end, and he who created men knows the agencies 
most likely to reach them. Many things conspire to 
the efficiency of this means; eloquence has a mar- 
velous charm, and it is before the public audience 
that the tongue is inspired to its highest achieve- 
ment; the enthusiasm, once kindled, is augmented 
by the presence of the multitude. There is a subtle, 
unaccountable contagion of thought and feeling 
amongst men when they are massed; one thought, 
one passion, getting possession of the whole, every 
unit in the mass becomes at once communicative 
and recipient of the common consciousness, and con- 
tributes to augment both its intensity and volume. 
Of this law, at once so subtle and so powerful, the 
most is made in this great agency of the kingdom 
of God. The inspiration of the orator by the mul- 
titude, and the augmentation of responsive sensibil- 



A Dedication Discourse. 313 

ity hy the same presence, constitute the natural basis 
of the power of preaching. 

To this is to be added, by special provision of 
grace, "the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven;" 
this is that stupendous source of power upon which 
we are to depend. The power of the word is not 
found only in its own supreme significance, not only 
in the inspirations of orators and assemblies, but in 
the presence of the Holy Spirit; it is he who gives 
it momentum as it is projected from human lips; 
the words go forth upon divine propulsion; when 
his word goes abroad among men, making him 
known in his eternal justice and truth, and in the 
fullness of his saving mercies, he is glorified. 

3. God is glorified in the place of public worship, 
in the assemblies of his saints. 

Though preaching is the chief function of the 
Christian ministry, it is not the sole use of the house 
of God ; the solemnities of public worship are scarcely 
less important; the place where his people come to- 
gether for united prayer and praise is, indeed, hal- 
lowed; this is the immediate, formal ascription to 
him of the honor that is his due; it is the public 
avowal of our recognition. 

"Praise is comely for the upright." I suppose 
there is no other employment of created faculties so 
purifying, so ennobling, as the contemplation and 
worship of the Uncreated; no other object of thought 
is so pure, or so provokes purity; and when thought 
takes the form of worship, then every affection feels 
the touch of the All-holy. Tn private worship we 
come "into the secret place of his tabernacle," and 
14 



314 A Dedication Discourse. 

the confidences of unpartieipated and unwitnessed 
communion bring the soul into closest fellowship 
with God. There are some wants and sorrows, there 
are certain occasions of love, and joy, and tender- 
ness, that must be sacred between a man and his 
Maker; the deepest religious experiences belong to 
the closet; the instincts and impulses of a sanctified 
spirit tend strongly to the privacies and freedom of 
solitary prayer and praise; it must have the luxury 
of unshared approaches to God; it must enjoy occa- 
sions when it can have him all to itself. 

But our social nature, also, demands worship in 
another form. It is eminently fit that partakers of 
a common grace should offer a united homage, and 
that public honors should exalt the name of God 
amongst men; high-sounding praises should give 
his fame to the winds of heaven and to every ear; 
the homage of the Church must come abroad among 
all that love him, and be witnessed by all who hate 
him; praise must make a vehicle of music, and in 
the raptures of triumphant melody exalt him that 
sitteth upon the throne; we must provoke each 
other to laud and magnify his most holy name by 
the inspiration of responsive symphonies. " Cry out 
and shout, thou inhabitant of Zion; for srreat is the 
Holy One of Israel in the midst of thee." "Praise 
ye the Lord. Praise ye the name of the Lord ; praise 
him, ye servants of the Lord. Ye that stand in 
the house of the Lord, in the courts of the house of 
our God, praise the Lord ; for the Lord is good : sing 
praises unto his name; for it is pleasant." Thus is 
God honored in his house. 



A Dedication Discourse. 315 

4. God is glorified in his house by the solemnities 
of the sacramental service; through the simple, but 
most impressive, rites of baptism and the holy Sup- 
per there is suggestive exhibition of his glorious 
grace; the inmost truths are interpreted to the eye: 
in baptism, the' cleansing efficacy of the Holy Spirit 
is symbolized in the use of water, and in the sacra- 
mental Supper we " do show the Lord's death till he 
come." 

5. In his house he is glorified in the consumma- 
tion of his gracious purpose in the work of salva- 
tion. 

God is not confined to time or place; in the new 
creation the Spirit is free; faith realizes the trans- 
forming power at the moment of its exercise, 
whether it may be here or there. 33ut in the house 
of prayer, more than in any other place, are these 
wonders wrought; and these are the chiefest glories 
of his power; where his word is ministered, and his 
people supplicate his presence together, "this and 
that man are born" — born to a new life in God. 
One hour of his saving presence, in his house, when 
souls are coming into life eternal, transcends all the 
splendors of the first creation. The shout of a soul, 
when it first knows God, is more worthy of his ear 
than all the strains that celebrate the birth of worlds. 

6. Here his people are edified in love; here the 
babes in Christ are fed with the " sincere milk of the 
word," and mature men with the "strong meat." 
The holiness of his people, more than all other things, 
glorifies him; for this Christ died; for this the Spirit 
is ministered; to this all the methods of redemption 



316 A Dedication Discourse. 

look. The universe was created only that it might 
become worthy of its Creator in being inhabited by 
intelligent beings, radiant in the "beauties of holi- 
ness." Take away this light, and the blackness of 
darkness would cover all things; nature would be a 
waste without meaning; there would be no eye to 
perceive the glory of God, no tongue to proclaim it; 
to this the first creation looked, and it is this that the 
new creation effectuates; for this new heavens and a 
new earth shall be created, after the "former things 
are passed away." " Holiness becometh thy house, 
Lord, forever;" heaven itself shall be radiant with 
this light. But the " holy seed" are nurtured in the 
house of God; no wonder he should say, "I will be 
glorified," even in the temples which we build. 

To what divine honors are we raised, in that we 
are permitted to enhance the glory of the Infinite 
One on earth! But, brethren, it is even so. "We 
are workers together with God;" Ave are — and this 
is the wonder of wonders — media through which 
the work of God is wrought; we are admitted to 
participation in both the labors and the joy of our 
Lord. "When we least think of it, in the humblest 
contributions to the sanctuary, we are glorifying 
God; and well may we feel that our joy is full when 
he condescends to notice our work, and to proclaim 
his pleasure in it. 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 317 



<©ur lord's jjodrine Ucspccfiiuj %h\it% 



SERMON X. 

"And he said also unto his disciples, There was a certain rich 
man, which had a steward; and the same was accused unto 
him that he had wasted his goods. And he called him, and 
said unto him, How is it that I hear this of thee? give an ac- 
count of thy stewardship; for thou mayest be no longer stew- 
ard. Then the steward said within himself, What shall I do ? 
for my lord taketh away from me the stewardship : I cannot 
dig; to beg I am ashamed. I am resolved what to do, that, 
when I am put out of the stewardship, they may receive me into 
their houses. So he called every one of his lord's debtors unto 
him, and said unto the first, How much owest thou unto my 
lord ? And he said, An hundred measures of oil. And he said 
unto him, Take thy bill, and sit down quickly, and write fifty. 
Then said he to another, And how much owest thou ? And he 
said, An hundred measures of wheat. And he said unto him, 
Take thy bill, and write fourscore. And the lord commended 
the unjust steward, because he had done wisely : for the chil- 
dren of this world are in their generation wiser than the 
children of light. And I say unto you, Make to yourselves 
friends of the mammon of unrighteousness ; that, when ye fail, 
they may receive you into everlasting habitations. He that is 
faithful in that which is least, is faithful also in much ; and he 
that is unjust in the least, is unjust also in much. If there- 
fore ye have not been faithful in the unrighteous mammon, 



318 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

who will commit to your trust the true riches ? And if ye have 
not been faithful in that which is another man's, who shall 
give you that which is your own? No servant can serve two 
masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; 
or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye 
cannot serve God and mammon. And the Pharisees also, who 
were covetous, heard all these things ; and they derided him." 
Luke xvi. 1-14. 

OUR Lord was a pointed Teacher; his discourses 
were suited to times, and places, and persons; 
he addressed himself expressly to particular classes 
of persons who were present. This parable of the 
unjust steward was intended for his own followers: 
"And he said also unto his disciples," etc. The design 
of the parable was, unquestionably, to instruct the 
Church as to our relation to property, and the op- 
portunities involved in it; in other words, he teaches 
his people how to use money wisely; wisely, not in 
a general view, but for our own advantage. He in- 
forms us how we may get the most out of our money 
by proper sagacity in managing and investing it; 
he brings to our knowledge the glorious opportuni- 
ties we have in connection with property. The ob- 
ject — at least, the immediate point of instruction — 
is not to insist on a generous regard for others; it is 
not to inculcate charity — at least, that is not the 
main topic — but to show us how to make the best, 
that is, the most paying, investment. The man who 
desires to make the most of his money ought, by all 
means, to study this parable. 

Nothing is more common than for men to make 
blunders in investing. Particular pieces of real 
estate lose their value, securities prove worthless, 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 319 

debts are lost; thus many a bulky estate shrivels 
and goes to nothing — thus many a rich man finds 
himself a beggar before he knows it. Merchants 
fail, banks break, manufacturing companies become 
insolvent; riches make themselves wings and fly 
away. Or, if investments do not prove wholly dis- 
astrous, there is often shrinkage, or, at least, they 
are unproductive; they were made with large ex- 
pectation of brilliant returns, but, though there may 
be no actual loss, at least nothing is made. 

Men who have money are anxious about it; they 
look eagerly around for a secure place to put it, where 
it will be safe and yield, if not largely, at least some- 
thing. Our Lord comes to their relief in this para- 
ble; he speaks to the common sense of his disciples 
as to the investments which will enrich them most 
certainly, and yield the most liberal returns. 

Not only are men disappointed in their invest- 
ments, but also in their expenditures. How often 
they incur large expenses, and find themselves 
disappointed! They lay out money for luxurious 
living, and, lo! they have bought dyspepsia; they 
bargain for a fish, and get a serpent; they give bril- 
liant entertainments, at heavy cost, and some envi- 
ous criticism embitters the feast; they pay for a 
night's pleasures, and get a week's sickness. They 
spend money like water on their sons, incurring ex- 
penses for costly clothing, expenses for fast horses, 
expenses for wine-parties, expenses in popular col- 
leges, expenses without stint and without grudging. 
They think by all this lavish expenditure to train 
their boys to be elegant gentlemen, but in the end 



320 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

they find that they have put them on the highway 
to dissipation and vagabondism. So much money 
laid out only to purchase infamy ! For their daugh- 
ters money goes out in uncalculating profusion. 
They must be reared in elegant idleness, and edu- 
cated in all the accomplishments; money for the 
fashionable school, money for the dancing-master, 
and money, fabulous amounts of money, for dress, 
and gewgaws, and parties, and watering-places — 
thousands on thousands. And what is the commod- 
ity in hand, the purchase of all this money? Ask 
at the end of twenty years. A trifling husband, a 
dissipated estate, and a miserable woman. These 
men incubate upon money, and hatch cockatrice's 
eggs; they plant gold, and gather a harvest of this- 
tles. 

Is there no help for this ? Is man doomed, in his 
relations with money? Is there no divine philoso- 
phy to relieve the case? Must gold always turn to 
arsenic? 

Beloved, the Son of God has redeemed money as 
he has redeemed man ; and this parable, which is our 
text, may be fitly entitled, "The Gospel of Money." 

I speak of riches, of property, using the word 
" money " in my discourse for the reason for which 
money itself is used in business. It represents all 
commercial values; it stands for property, and I use 
the word as the equivalent of the word "property; " 
I do not mean simply money, but every thing money 
represents. 

The natural analysis of the text I have read di- 
vides it into three parts. The first part is the nar- 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 321 

rative — the parable proper; the second part is a 
general remark which our blessed Lord makes upon 
the narrative; the third part consists of several 
distinct uses our Lord makes of the narrative, in 
the way of application. The first part ends in the 
middle of the eighth verse, the second embraces 
only the remainder of that verse, and the third com- 
prises the rest of the passage. 

The division of the sacred text into chapters and 
verses w r as made by uninspired men in compara- 
tively recent times, and, however convenient for 
reference, to enable us to identify and turn to spe- 
cial passages, it often embarrasses the understanding. 
The mechanical appearence of the text on the page, 
broken into short paragraphs, suggests a corre- 
sponding break in the connection; but the truth is, 
in this division there was no regard to the connec- 
tion of thought, but the closest unity is often vio- 
lated. In my early life I am sure I was kept back a 
long time from understanding many important pas- 
sages just by this unnatural interruption. Every 
verse seemed to me to be a paragraph by itself, and 
I could scarcely put it, in my thought, into close 
connection with what preceded and followed. Such 
influence has the eye upon the mind, that it would 
be well for children to study editions of the Bible 
in which the text is divided into paragraphs accord- 
ing to the sense. 

I suggest to you to study this parable and its les- 
sons in the light of the analysis I have given; your 
understanding of it will, I am sure, be greatly aided. 
Remember that there is the narrative, ending in the 
14* 



322 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

middle of the eighth verse, the general remark, in 
the last part of the eighth verse, and the applica- 
tions following. 

I. The parable proper — the narrative. 

The characters of the parable are a rich man, his 
steward, and certain men indebted to the rich man. 
The rich man was the proprietor of a large estate, 
and the steward was employed to take charge of 
the business; the rich man owned all, the steward 
managed it. 

The lesson of the parable hinges on the office of 
the steward, the nature of the office, and on the 
course pursued by this particular steward. 

The word " steward,'' in our present popular usage, 
does not give an adequate idea of the functions of 
the steward among the Orientals. He was an em- 
ploye of no mean grade; in charge of large busi- 
ness, with responsibility of transactions, he must be 
a man of intelligence and business training. He 
was not a common servant, with his tasks set, but 
represented the proprietor, with authority to buy 
and sell, and trade and make settlements; he had 
large discretion ; whether the estate would prosper 
depended greatly on his energy and sagacity. How 
important this employment was may be illustrated 
by the case of Abraham, and the respectable char- 
acter of the men who engaged in it, as well. When 
the patriarch's estate increased, so as to justify and 
require it, he employed a man from Damascus, 
trained to business, no doubt, in that great commer- 
cial center. The steward must not only be in- 
telligent and capable, but trustworthy; if he were 



Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 323 

unprincipled, he might ruin every thing in the run 
of a few years. How respectable a man "this Eli- 
ezer of Damascus " was will appear from the fact 
that the patriarch confided to him the delicate re- 
sponsibility of negotiating for a wife for his son, as 
well as the care and escort of the bride on a long 
journey. It is evident that this man was held in 
high regard by his employer — it is important to 
keep this in mind for the interpretation of the par- 
able. The steward was no menial, but a business 
agent, with large discretion, and in a most respon- 
sible relation to his employer's affairs; he was the 
principal man after his "lord," as the employer is 
entitled in this narrative. 

But the steward of the parable was wanting in a 
capital qualification; he was accused to his lord 
" that he had wasted his goods." The suggestion is 
not that he was guilty of peculation with a view to 
hoarding; he had laid up nothing, for so soon as he 
was turned adrift by his employer he was thrown 
upon his wits for bread. He wasted the goods, 
possibly through carelessness, probably in prodigal 
living, not hesitating to lay his hand on his lord's 
property for the exigences of dissipation. That he 
was intended to be regarded as dishonest is evident 
from the fraudulent settlements with the debtors 
which he is represented as making. The character 
delineated is that of an unscrupulous spendthrift, 
intrusted with another man's property, and making 
free with it in the gratification of his own expensive 
desires. He was wasting his employer's goods. 

Upon this accusation, his lord called him to ac- 



324 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

count. "Give an account of thy stewardship, for 
thou may est be no longer steward." He was sum- 
moned to an investigation; the master had already 
the conviction that he was guilty; yet should the 
investigation prove him innocent, we are to suppose, 
he would be kept in his place, and between the 
time of the notification and the investigation lie 
still held his place, having authority to make trans- 
actions. But the interval was short, and he knew 
his own guilt, and foresaw the fatal issue of the ex- 
amination; he was at a crisis — he was in extremity. 
The question before him did not concern his honor; 
disgrace w T as inevitable, and perhaps he cared little 
for that. But there was the question of bread; to 
that he was sensitive; he must cast about, and see 
what could be made of the situation. He reflects. 

"I cannot dig;" my muscles have never been 
toughened for toil, nor trained to the canning dex- 
terity of the artisan. Digging, therefore, is out of 
the question. "To beg I. am ashamed;" I have 
been bred a gentleman, and can never condescend 
to the humiliations of the mendicant. But I shall 
be ousted from my place in such discredit as will 
preclude the hope of honorable employment; I am 
turned off as being untrustworthy; of course, no 
other man will intrust me with his affairs; I am 
shut out from the onh T business I have been trained 
to. "What shall I do?" this was the supreme 
question. What shall I do ? The key of the par- 
able is in the answer of this question. 

"I am resolved what to do, that when I am put 
out of the stewardship they may receive me into 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 325 

their houses." What he did was with a view to pro- 
vide for himself in his extremity. That- was the sole 
object. Remember this; we shall have use for it. 

But what did he do? He was still holding his 
place as steward; examination of his accounts had 
not yet taken place, but was set for an early clay — 
perhaps to-morrow. There was no time to waste; 
measures must be promptly taken ; it will soon be 
too late. "I am in extremity, and must make the 
best of my opportunity." 

What did he do? This: he made use of his lord's 
property for his own advantage; he made fraudulent 
settlements with his lord's debtors, to their advan- 
tage, remitting fifty per cent, from one claim, twenty 
from another, and so on. He actually gave to one 
fifty measures of oil, and to another twenty meas- 
ures of wheat, that was the property of his em- 
ployer, with a view to lay them under obligation to 
him, so that they could not refuse him food and 
shelter in his extremity. "We must suppose he knew 
his men. There are many men who are formally 
honest, but who, if the opportunity of a little sly 
rascality offers, will be only too glad of the chance. 
They have a good name, and intend to keep it, but 
if they can reap the fruits of a fraudulent transac- 
tion and shelter themselves, you may be sure they 
will do it. They will sell a horse liable to disease, 
and conceal the fact from the purchaser. 

Or, are we to suppose that these men were unsus- 
pecting — that they presumed the generous discount 
had been authorized by the proprietor? I think 
not, for in that case the steward would have ac- 



326 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

quired no hold upon them. When they discovered 
the fraud they would have repudiated it and its au- 
thor ; at any rate, in that case, the obligation would 
have been to the lord, and not to the steward. But 
if we understand that they are represented as being 
in guilty complicity with the steward, the case is 
plain ; then they were under an obligation of grati- 
tude to him, and would receive him into their houses. 
Besides that, he would have a hold upon them as 
being implicated with him in the fraud; he — a des- 
perate man, already infamous, and face to face with 
starvation — would have a sort of black-mail advan- 
tage of those respectable citizens; they must harbor 
and feed him as long as he might choose. 

But the matter vital to the significance of the par- 
able is the sagacity with which the steward availed 
himself of his brief opportunity to provide for him- 
self with the means at his disposal. These means 
belonged to another, indeed; but they were in his 
hand, and he made the best possible use of them for 
his own advantage in his great extremity. We may 
revolt at the dishonesty; but, mark you, he was one 
of the children of this world, and the dishonesty goes 
to that side of the account, while the wisdom, the sa- 
gacity, of the stroke contains suggestion, at once, of 
example and rebuke, even to the children of light. 
He had secured an open door for himself, when he 
should be turned adrift; he had done it by very 
shrewd management; had done wisely — that is the 
point — and as he was one of the children of this 
world, was intended to be understood as being so, 
and in that particular, put in contrast with the 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 327 

children of light, it was natural and necessary to 
the structure and design of the parable that his wis- 
dom should appear in the strongest light of mere 
worldliness; and the strongest expression of mere 
Avorldliness is dishonesty. It is, therefore, eminently 
proper that this man's wisdom in evil should be 
made to rebuke our want of wisdom in that which 
is good. 

"And the lord commended the unjust steward, 
because he had done wisely." Children sometimes 
get the impression that it is our blessed Lord who is 
here said to have commended the unjust steward; 
and it is wonderful how hard it is to dislodge an im- 
pression once fixed in the mind, though it be in child- 
hood. I remember well when this impression was 
upon my mind, and I revolted at the thought of the 
blessed Saviour " commending'' this man in such an 
act, even though the commendation was only of his 
having done wisely. But I need not remind you that 
it was not our Lord, but the proprietor — the stew- 
ard's lord — who is represented as commending him. 
This belongs to the narrative as Jesus relates it; it 
is the Lord Jesus who says "the lord commended 
the unjust steward, because he had clone wisely" — 
that is, his employer complimented him upon his 
shrewdness, though he was himself victimized by it. 
I once met with a similar case — a man wiio had been 
very adroitly defrauded of a large amount by his 
partner in business. His remark was, " I can almost 
forgive the fellow for the consummate shrewdness 
of his management." So this defrauded employer 
complimented the wise craft of the man who, even 



328 Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches, 

at his expense, took care to secure himself against 
starvation and beggary. "We come now 

II. To THE GENERAL REMARK OF OUR LORD UPON THE 
NARRATIVE. 

"For the children of this world are in their gen- 
eration wiser than the children of light." Those 
are wiser in evil than these in goodness. How com- 
pletely upside down things must be in a world where 
this remark holds good ! That world is ours. What 
a reproach is this upon us who name the name of 
Christ! But we deserve it. 

Who are the children of this icorld? There can 
be no doubt; the designation is accurate and descrip- 
tive. " The children of this world." They are they 
whose lives are given to the world; they are of the 
world; they live for the world ; their eyes have never 
been opened upon aught else but this present world; 
they have had no vision of divine things; their 
plans are all laid for the present life; their hopes are 
bounded by its limit; darkness is on all Jjeyond its 
boundary; they make no provision for that which 
lies beyond the grave; their loves are all here, and 
their ambitions; their aspirations know nothing 
higher than the fleeting honors of this present time. 
These are "the children of this world." 

Who, then, are "the children of light?" The 
children of light! They are those whose eyes have 
been couched so that now they see — the} 7 see; their 
vision is not of shadows, but of realities; not of a 
"vain show" that is to sink into the grave, not of a 
poor, pretentions vanity-fair, all tricked in cheap, 
garish finery, already fading — a dissolving view — 



Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 329 

but of God, of life, of immortality; they are chil- 
dren of light; they see things as they are; they see 
how poor a bauble money is, taken in its customary 
uses and significance ; they see what fame is — a mere 
puff; they see what pleasure is — the deceitful effer- 
vescence of a moment upon a most insipid cup ; they 
see what the world is — " an empty show."' 

But they see also beyond; they see life in its 
highest meaning; they see "the beauties of holi- 
ness;" they see Sinai and Calvary; to them sin has 
become exceeding sinful, and a Saviour from sin 
chiefest among ten thousand, and altogether lovely; 
pardon of sin, and being made meet for the inherit- 
ance of the saints in light, by the blood of the ever- 
lasting covenant, is, in their eyes, the only true end 
of life. The account to be given in final judgment, 
the dread consequences of a life of impenitency and 
sin, and the glorious rewards of grace in eternity, 
are all disclosed in the light of a faithful revelation. 
In distant perspective, but in most real light, the 
gates of the celestial city appear; within are the 
house not made with hands, the river of the water 
of life, the sea of glass, and 

the everlasting gardens, 

Where angels walk, and seraphs are the wardens. 

There are the spirits of the just made perfect, re- 
moved from a world of want and pain, and estab- 
lished in holiness forever. All this is in the vision 
of the "children of light," and they themselves are 
pressing on, hoping soon to be there; as they con- 
template that goodly company, no wonder they 



330 Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

I sec a world of spirits bright, 

Who reap the pleasures there ! 
They all are robed in spotless white, 

And conq'ring palms they bear. 

The light winch brings these great facts into vision 
comes not from the sun, nor from the stars, but from 
the Sun of righteousness, the uncreated Source of 
light. Only the inward eye can see it; when that 
is incapable of vision, men see only by the light of 
this world, and are "children of this world." But 
there are those even here, walking among the shad- 
ows, to whom 

Faith lends its realizing light, 

The clouds disperse, the shadows fly, 

Th' Invisible appears in sight, 
And God is seen by mortal eye. 

The children of light are pilgrims and strangers 
here, and " declare plainly that they seek a country." 
They have fixed their hearts on that "better land." 
There is no death there; there is no sin, nor shame, 
nor poverty, nor fear, nor ignorance. None of the 
inhabitants of that country ever say, I am sick. 
There is no night there; there are no tears. On 
every cheek there is the glow of health, in every 
eye the light of truth and love. The air is tremu- 
lous with melody and redolent of the choicest odors. 
happy, happy, happy world! Home of the puri- 
fied, the children of light are seeking thee; by day 
and by night, in toil and tears, they are pressing on 
— seeking, in "the blood of the Lamb," that purity 
that will fit them for thy blessed scenes and holy 
companionships. 



Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 331 

Surely, having made discovery of such a land, 
and having renounced the world to make it their 
home, they will omit no preparation for the way; 
they will be intent only on this one thing — to escape 
"the death that never dies," and secure their man- 
sion with the saints in glory. They will be the more 
earnest because they know the dangers of the way. 
By-paths every here and there lead off into eternal 
darkness; deceitful ignes fatui lead the unwary off 
upon hopeless pursuit and into despair; the fascinat- 
ing voice of Pleasure sings a charming melody, out 
in the gardens of sin, to allure and destroy; snares 
are set thick on all sides for careless feet. Thou- 
sands of thoughtless travelers have wandered and 
perished; they started in high hope for "Jerusa- 
lem, the golden," the " city of delights," but they 
were thoughtless travelers; they took no precaution 
against delusions; they never studied the chart so 
that they might detect false guides; their eyes, 
turned for a moment from the celestial gates, have 
caught the false glow of the ignis fatuus; their feet 
have wandered; they are lost. They will never walk 
on the golden streets, nor hear the music, nor see 
the flash of the uncreated light on gates of pearl 
and walls of sapphire. 

Surely those that follow will take warning; with 
heaven in view, and the alternative of hell, they will 
take no risks. "Eternal vigilance" will be their 
watch-word. No thoughtless moment will be al- 
lowed to imperil eternity; no precaution will be 
omitted. The "chart of the way" will be the ob- 
ject of continual study. No rash, adventurous step 



332 Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

will depart from the narrow way, even at the slight- 
est angle, for the pitfall may be at the point of first 
departure. Xo overweight of pelf will be suffered 
to embarrass progress. Who that seeks the City of 
Gold will run the risk of failure for a basr of ^old? 
who will pnt the tine gold of heaven in jeopardy 
for the coarse metal of Mariposa? 

Alas, alas! hear what the Lord saith, he who 
knoweth what is in man: "The children of this 
world are in their generation wiser than the chil- 
dren of light." Can this be so? can it be? Thou 
ever-blessed Lord, what a testimony is this against 
thy own people! Alas, alas for us! it is the testi- 
mony of One who knows all things, and who can- 
not lie. 

What a spectacle is this! a worldly man taking 
his measures more thoughtfully to make a hundred 
dollars in a trade than his Christian neighbor does 
to please God — giving his mind more intelligently 
to a question of safe investment for the paltry 
amount than his Christian neighbor does to assured 
possession of the "pearl of great price." But is it 
not a common spectacle? 

"Wiser in their generation" — in their age. The 
world's people are wiser in their affairs, in what 
they propose to themselves as objects of life, than 
the people of God are in respect to the great object 
which they have set out to gain. They have chosen 
this world for their portion, and of it they have only 
a very little time — a brief a<?e — their own genera- 
tion. That they confine their plans and hopes to 
a stage so limited is not loisc; in view of their im- 



Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 333 

mortality, that they do so limit their aspirations to 
a moment, a mere point, to the pursuit of ends little 
in themselves, and so transitory in their use, is the 
extreme of folly. But on their little puppet stage 
they do, at least some of them, play their part with 
consummate skill; as merchants, as professional 
men, as farmers, or mechanics, or politicians, they 
study their parts well, and play them to admira- 
tion. It was folly supreme to choose earth instead 
of heaven, but since the choice has been made, they 
make the best of it; it was folly supreme to choose 
a day in preference to an eternity, but they take 
great pains to make the most of the little thing now 
that they have it. They give their whole mind to 
it, and manage it wisely. 

The children of light contrast with them at both 
points; they have made the wise choice; they have 
taken God for their portion, and eternity for their 
inheritance. They have seen the contrast between 
the corruptible and the incorruptible, and have 
chosen that which will never fade away. But with 
what folly they endanger their title to it! Foolish, 
foolish, foolish men, who jeopard immortal treasures 
by a careless pursuit ! It is incredible that, after 
the wisdom of the choice, there should be such folly 
of neglect in attending to the conditions of attain- 
ing it. 

Tell me, if you had bestowed half the thought 
and care upon the conditions of growth and attain- 
ment in the Christian life that any successful mer- 
chant has upon the conditions of success in his 
business, what elevations of experience and charac- 



334 Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

ter would you not have reached erenow? what 
treasures would you not have had stored in heaven? 
in what knowledge of God would you not now he 
rejoicing? to what intimacies of faith and love he 
would have received you! You would have been 
admitted to the secret chambers of the King in the 
holy boldness of all-prevalent prayer. But you have 
been foolish, and to-day it is a question if you have 
even preserved your title to the divine inheritance. 

Our gracious Lord has strewed the earth with op- 
portunities for his people to increase their spiritual 
gains and augment the treasures of the world to 
come; but they seem actually too stupid to perceive 
them. What a contrast to the quick perception of 
his opportunity by the wicked steward ! He made 
better use of a day for his bad schemes than many 
of us do of a life-time in our glorious pursuit. 

What follows is naturally suggested by all this, 
and is necessary to bring out the scope of the para- 
ble. We proceed to examine the succeeding verses, 
which contain 

III. Several particular applications of the par- 
able. 

The first application is contained in the ninth 
verse: "And I say unto you, Make to yourselves 
friends of the mammon of unrighteousness; that, 
wmen ye fail, they may receive you into everlasting 
habitations." 

Some explication of this verse is necessary. Many 
ingenious minds have been embarrassed at two points 
in it: the phrase "mammon of unrighteousness" 
seems obscure, and the direction to make friends of 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 335 

the mammon of unrighteousness has heen a puzzle, 
probably, to all young readers. 

The word mammon is from the Chaldee language, 
and simply means money. I have already said that 
I use money as the equivalent of property; I do not 
mean money, simply, but all that money represents, 
also; and this is the meaning of the word mammon 
— no more, no less. But why is it called "the mam- 
mon of unrighteousness?" Is money evil in itself? 
Xo, unquestionably. But does not the apostle say 
that money is the root of all evil? K"o; he says no 
such thing; what he does say is that u the love of 
money is the root of all evil," and there can be no 
doubt that that is so. Money is not corrupt; but its 
presence is often the occasion of bringing out all the 
multiform evil of human nature; it is the mammon 
of unrighteousness, because unrighteousness comes 
to the surface through it more than through any 
other channel; at every point at which men touch 
it sin shows its hateful head; it is the occasion of 
strong temptation in every relation of men to it; in 
acquiring it there is temptation to lying, double- 
dealing, and fraud — and how often docs the tempta- 
tion prevail! in investing there is the temptation to 
covetous hoarding, and in spending there is the 
temptation to sensual gratification. There is no de- 
bauchery, no gratification of lust, that it will not 
procure; it may be sanctified to holiest uses, but it 
may also be prostituted to every basest use. If men 
were all holy, money would only serve the noblest 
ends; but, because depraved propensities are preva- 
lent in human society, unrighteousness is the prev- 



336 Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

alent expression of it. There is, therefore, a certain 
great truth contained in this designation of it — the 
mammon of unrighteousness. 

But making friends of the mammon of unright- 
eousness, who shall receive us into everlasting hab- 
itations — how is that? To be short, the meaning is, 
simply, that we are directed to use money in such a 
way as to make friends who will receive us into 
heaven. This is the plain and exact meaning of the 
place. But we shall come upon this point again. 

By a little thoughtful attention to this ninth verse 
you will see that it is a comprehensive and compend- 
ious resume of the whole narrative. Perhaps few 
readers see this, for the reference to each particular 
part of the narrative is not explicit; but where the 
reference is not formal it is clearly implied. Much 
of the most precious meaning of the sacred text lies 
just below the surface, and is missed entirely in a 
hurried perusal. Such is the fact in this instance. 
But let us proceed to examine it. 

"And I say unto you, Make to yourselves friends 
of the mammon of unrighteousness." What is im- 
plied in this? 

The unjust steward had made use of his employer's 
property to make friends for himself: " I am resolved 
what to do, that when I am put out of the steward- 
ship, they may receive me into their houses;" and 
what he did was to use his lord's property for that 
purpose. This is what he said he would do, and 
what he did do; and our Lord adds, "J say to you, 
Make to yourselves friends" by the use of money. 
The parallel was in his mind, and is all suggested, 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 337 

though not stated at length — as if he had said, " You, 
too, are stewards; you, too, have the property of an- 
other in your hands, with opportunity to use it to 
your own highest advantage, and I charge you to 
make the most of your opportunity." 

This passage involves the whole question of our 
relation to property. The rich man of the parable 
represents God. The property was the rich man's, 
not the steward's; he was only intrusted with the 
management of it so Ions* as his lord might be 
pleased to employ him. So God is the Proprietor of 
all things. No man owns property in any real sense 
of the word. An individual has in his control a 
certain amount of what makes up this whole world, 
but it is not his; God is the owner, and has, in his 
providence, only put this man in charge for a little 
while; he may say he accumulated it, and got it in 
possession* by his own labor, but that does not alter 
the case at all. When a steward took charge of an 
estate, and managed the business with great energy 
and sagacity, it would increase greatly; perhaps in 
twenty years it would increase tenfold. What if 
this steward should begin to say, This is my prop- 
erty; J made it? No; he was entitled to nothing 
above his stipulated wages; all the accumulation is 
as much the master's as the original capital. The 
steward has had his wages all along, punctually, so 
that his employer is quit of all obligation to him; 
he has acquired no shadow of title to the estate 
which has accumulated upon the original capital 
under his hand. 

The earth was put in charge of man by the Cre- 
15 



338 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

ator, and he went to work on it; but God did not 
alienate the title; he still holds that. The crude 
conditions of nature constituted the property of the 
estate when the Infinite Proprietor placed it in the 
hands of his steward. With brain and muscle man 
set himself to work to improve the property, and he 
has improved it; out of the earth he has wrought 
many specimens of art and commodities of life; he 
has organized society, introduced commerce, and 
created civilization; out of the crude conditions of 
nature he has evolved commercial values. The value 
of the estate is greatly enhanced, but the rights of 
proprietorship are not affected. " The earth is [still] 
the Lord's, and the fullness thereof, the world and 
they that dwell therein." God furnished the capital; 
the soil, the atmosphere, the water, the dews, and 
clouds, the sunshine — all are his; we are stewards, 
and each one has had his wages all along; -the estate 
has never changed hands. The capital has been 
productive in one man's hand until it is worth five 
hundred dollars; another is in charge of a hundred 
millions. But as to the title, it is still in God; he 
employs this man only as a steward, and only for so 
long as may please him; he never employs any one 
for very long, some only for the briefest service. 

As respects other men, we may assert our posses- 
sion ; but in our relation to God, we can claim 
nothing but the wages he gives us day by day; and 
let it be deeply engraven upon our hearts that our 
employment is not for always, is not for long; that 
we are employed at the will of our great Master, and 
he will dismiss us when it may please him. 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 339 

But the steward in the parable fell under suspicion 
of wasting his lord's goods; he was not scrupulous 
with that which was in trust with him, but spent it 
in his own pleasures; he had his wages — liberal 
enough, no doubt — but that did not content him; he 
must also spend what belonged to the master. 

Are not we, too, under suspicion of wasting our 
Lord's goods? Are we content with what we may 
fairly take as wages? Do not we make heavy in- 
roads into the estate, using it for our own pleasures 
as if it were our own proper possession ? 

Our Lord has not made specific stipulation with 
us as to the amount of wages; the steward is no 
menial, with set tasks, but has large discretion; God 
takes us on very generous terms; he even trusts our 
fidelity and discretion as to amount of wages; but 
we are to give account of all to him ; he leaves us to 
judge of the amount that is to be expended on our- 
selves and our families ; but it is to be determined in 
the light of the great fact that all belongs to him. 
The great majority of men are poor, and earn little 
more than will suffice for comfortable subsistence; 
some have scarcely any margin ; but even they are 
stewards, and must give account to G-od of all the 
little they get. Many have something over a com- 
fortable competency; a few have large wealth. 

Beyond question, the first duty of every man is to 
provide for his own household. In this, too, he is 
God's steward, and must be guided by his will. But 
are we not under just suspicion of wasting the Lord's 
goods in our household expenses? Is not money 
laid out on our children in a way to foster pride, and 



340 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

vanity, and sin? Do we think of honoring God 
with our substance as we use it in our families? 
Do we not rear our children in pleasures instead of 
piety? 

Those who have thousands — many of them, at 
least — appropriate but a niggardly dole to charity 
and religion ; even the very poor spend more, per- 
haps, on needless indulgences than the} T do to aid 
those in still deeper penury. Who is there that has 
used this world as not abusing it? Who of us all 
can clear himself of the charge of having wasted the 
goods intrusted to us? 

We, too, are notified that we shall be called to ac- 
count for all that is in our hands ; a solemn and most 
thorough investigation is to be made ; every item of 
our administration will be looked into with rigid 
scrutiny. 

Still farther the parallel holds; for we have been 
notified that the stewardship will be taken away 
from us; all these goods of our Master will be re- 
moved from our hands at death; that will end the 
stewardship. 

Then, when we are turned out of the stewardship, 
where shall we 2:0? what shall we do? Have we 
made any provision? have we any thing laid up 
against that day? or, have we been going on with- 
out reference to the future, with no sagacious fore- 
cast of eternal needs? O the thought of going into 
that world unprovided, and with no friend to re- 
ceive us! 

The steward in the parable, in the brief interval 
after notice was given him, by the use of his mas- 



Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 341 

ter's property, made friends who would receive him 
into their houses; so we are enjoined by our Lord to 
use the money we hold as stewards of God to make 
friends who will receive us at death into "everlast- 
ing habitations," with this difference, that such a use 
of his goods by us is with the knowledge and appro- 
bation of our employer; it is the use of his goods for 
his own ends, and, at the same time, to our highest 
advantage. 

But is this so? Can we use money in such a way 
as to make friends for ourselves who will receive us 
after death? If this text means any thing, it means 
just that. I confess I was startled when I first got 
the vision of this truth — but why? Is it unreason- 
able? Take a case. 

When I took charge of a certain Church — I will 
not name it — as was my custom, I hastened to find 
all my members, and to know them personally, es- 
pecially the poor. I found one — a widow in humble 
circumstances, whose youngest child was nearly 
grown up; she told me her story. Fifteen years be- 
fore she had been bereft of her husband, who was a 
mechanic, and left her with a helpless family and 
without means of support. Where bread was to 
come from she did not see. But she had one friend 
who never failed her: her class-leader was a man 
of wealth; he kept himself informed as to her ne- 
cessities; took pains to get her employment; got 
situations for her sons, as they grew up, in places 
where they would be under good influences; and, 
whenever the pinch came, and it was necessary, he 
sent fuel and provisions — always doing what he 



342 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

could first to put her in a way of helping herself, 
that she might not feel dependent. This went on 
for years, until her sons were able to support her. 
He had never failed her; he had been a friend in- 
deed — pure, and generous, and noble. 

During the first year of my pastoral term she died. 
Her old friend was there with me under the lowly 
roof. Her purity, her piety, and her sorrows, had 
interested him in her, and he felt that he had lost a 
friend; his tears were silent, but came from deep 
fountains. He closed her eyes reverently with his 
own hand, and taking two pieces of silver coin from 
his pocket, laid them on the lids. He was with the 
children at the open grave, and wept almost as pro- 
fusely as they when the clods fell and the officiating 
minister pronounced the words, " Earth to earth, 
ashes to ashes, dust to dust." 

A few months later I saw him die; it was a glori- 
ous death — rather, it was a glorious triumph over 
death. It was in the morning; the sun was just 
sweeping up from the horizon; Nature was in her 
most resplendent attire. It seemed as if heaven 
had lent something of its radiance to the scene. 
All at once his eye flamed with a new light, his 
spirit swept up through the golden gates of the 
morning, and left his face all beautiful with smiles 
that lingered still upon it when he was borne away 
to the grave. 

Tell me, did not that glorified saint whose chil- 
dren he had fed, and who had been a year in heaven 
before him, receive him with celestial friendship to 
the everlasting habitations? 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Etches. 343 

It is said that there is a tombstone in the cemetery 
at Florence, in Italy, bearing this inscription : " Here 
lies Estella, who has gone to heaven to enter upon 
the enjoyment of an estate of fifty thousand florins 
which she transported to that world before herself — 
in charitable deeds." Why not? what is there un- 
reasonable in that? 

We are all saved by grace; no mere acts of charity 
can put away sin, or merit the favor of God. Yet 
is it God's gracious will that his people, saved 
through the blood of the Lamb, shall reap the full 
harvest of their pious deeds in eternity. 

It is no mere thoughtless scattering of money that 
will open heaven; but you may depend upon it, 
when we have as faithful stewards of God used his 
goods in aiding his poor, we shall reap the fruit of 
it in celestial friendships, and in the everlasting 
habitations. 

I knew of a pious gentleman some years ago, a 
member of the Presbyterian Church, a merchant of 
not very large means, who made a rule of finding 
out some interior neighborhood wjiere there was 
no Church and no Sunday-school, and contributing 
every year fifty dollars to outfit and organize a 
Sunday-school. My information was that several 
Churches had grown up from these nuclei, and some 
hundreds of souls had been converted. Will not all 
these be friends to receive him to the everlasting 
habitations? Why should we doubt it? 

Money used in faith to build houses for God, to 
endow institutions of learning under Christian au- 
spices, to send the gospel abroad to the ends of the 



344 Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

earth, must have the approbation of God himself. 
Is it too much to say that we may put ourselves into 
sympathy with Christ in his work by the faithful 
use of the means he has placed in our hands, and 
that then we may expect our Creator and Redeemer 
to welcome us to the fruit of our piety in the ever- 
lasting habitations? 

I have already said that this parable was spoken 
to the disciples — to the Church. Let no wicked 
man imagine that he can purchase heaven with 
money; the very suggestion would be blasphemy. 
But I do say that a man who has first given him- 
self up to God may lay up treasures in heaven by 
the pious use of property in a faithful stewardship. 
The enlightened Christian does not despise this 
world's goods; it is a trust put into his hands by his 
Maker: he must handle every dollar's worth with a 
conscience toward God; he must have an eye to 
God's will in making it, in investing it, in distribu- 
ting it. Handling it in this spirit, if becomes the 
instrument of godly ends, and its use will glorify 
him from whom we have received it; its uses inure 
to the eternal enrichment of those who handle it in 
faith, and with a "conscience toward God." 

Yes, a man may take his estate to heaven ! To 
be sure, he can take no bonds nor title-deeds; they 
are too gross and heavy. Gold can never be ferried 
over the last river; we must leave it all behind. 
Bank-notes are too heavy; if you had a bond for 
millions printed on one piece of paper — the finest 
tissue paper — and all your estate reduced to that 
compendious expression, you would find it too gross 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 345 

for transportation. Yet there is one way to carry 
your whole estate, and that with incalculably aug- 
mented value. The world was committed to man, 
and out of the crude conditions of nature he has, 
by his industry and art, evolved all commercial 
values, and now the Christian takes these coarse 
commercial values, puts them to charitable and 
pious uses, and thus evolves from them celestial values. 
In this form the actual value is augmented I know 
not how many fold, and it is portable even at the 
river of death. Thanks be to God that a hallowed 
radiance falls upon the coarsest and commonest 
things through the medium of faith ! The toil and 
hope of the old alchemists were all to end in bitter 
and humiliating disappointment; stones will never 
be turned to gold in mortal hands; but the child of 
God knows the secrets of an alchemy that turns 
gold to values that will be current in the commerce 
of eternity. 

Is this the plain teaching of our Divine Master? 
Yes; words can make it no plainer. Can money be 
invested to yield a revenue in heaven? Certainly. 
Do Christians believe it? If they believe the Son 
of God, they do. How can we account for it, then, 
that thousands of dollars among Church-people go 
for luxury and folly, and only tens for charity and 
religion ? Why will this godly man send his daugh- 
ter to a dancing-school, and spend money to train 
her for perdition, when he might invest it in stocks 
that will be at a premium in heaven? Why will 
this Christian woman buy paltry diamonds with 
the money with which she might turn a starving 
15* 



346 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

orphan's tears to jewels fit to decorate the crown of 
Jesus? Why is it that thousands go to rosewood 
furniture and fast horses, and only tens to Christian 
missions, where it would be transmuted into coin for 
the exchange of glory? Why is it? Let the Saviour 
answer: " For the children of this world are in their 
generation wiser than the children of light." the 
folly that lets slip such opportunities! the folly 
that flatters the vanity of children with money, and 
cultivates them for hell, instead of using it to train 
them to charity and faith, and fit them for the bless- 
edness of heaven! 

Let it be noted that this parable is not an appeal 
to benevolent feeling. The Scriptures are full of 
such appeals; but this is not one of them. God does 
expect his people to come up to the sublime elevation 
of a pure benevolence. Unquestionably, the noblest 
motive of soocl deeds is found in unselfishness. Bat 
our Maker brings all proper motives to bear in in- 
citing us to good works; among others, he appeals 
to our self-love. Self-love is not necessarily selfish- 
ness; selfishness is the evil form of self-love. The 
man who so loves himself as to disregard the just 
claim of others is selfish. God expects us to love 
ourselves. The highest standard of moral purity, 
on the manward side, is to love your neighbor as 
yourself; you are expected to love yourself; other- 
wise, that could not be put as the standard of your 
love to your neighbor. This self-love is a proper 
mo tive — not the highest, it may be, but good and 
worthy. Moses was actuated by it when he forsook 
Egypt; he had respect unto the recompense of the 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 317 

reward; Paul was actuated by it when he looked 
for the "crown of righteousness;" even our blessed 
Lord, for the joy that was set before him, endured the 
cross; every man who plants corn that he may have 
food is actuated by it. This is the motive that is ap- 
pealed to in the parable. Lay out your money in a 
manner most profitable for yourself; that is the argu- 
ment. Do wisely; use your money prudently, with 
a view to make the most of it for yourselves. The 
time will come, and soon, when ye shall fail — when 
you shall die — when your stewardship shall end. 
You have it in your power now to use the estate that 
is in your hands so as to make friends — friends of 
God's poor — ay, to make a Friend of God himself, 
who shall receive you into the everlasting habitations. 
"What other investment can you make that will yield 
like that? Xone — none; the best earthly values are 
nothing in the comparison. If you love yourself in- 
telligently, you will so use your money as to get it 
back hereafter. The best earthly investments may 
fail you at any time, must fail you at death; the 
wages of the stewardship will end then: now, while 
it is in your hand, use this estate with a view to the 
after-time — the time when you shall have it in hand 
no longer; do not sow to the flesh icith it, for then it 
will perish with the using. From this sowing to 
the flesh there can be no harvest but corruption ; for 
all flesh is corruptible — death ends it. But even with 
money you may sow to the Spirit; you may put it to 
spiritual uses; you may make it plow in God's field, 
and then you shall reap the harvest in everlasting life. 
Remember, this parable is simply an appeal to us 



348 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

on our own behalf; it urges us to do the best for our- 
selves. Surely, if we see eternal things in a clear 
light, the appeal will not be in vain. 

I cannot dismiss this part of the subject without 
another remark: This parable is not intended solely 
for the class of men whom we call rich; the poorest 
have an interest. He must be the merest pauper 
who cannot do some little good with money; yet it 
has a larger significance in the case of those who 
have large means. The statements of our Lord, 
with respect to rich men, are actually startling. 
The thirst for wealth is fatal. "They that will be 
rich" — who set their hearts on it — "fall into temp- 
tation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurtful 
lusts, which drown men in destruction and perdi- 
tion." Many of this class — they who will be rich — 
never get their desire, and perish on account of that 
which they never get. 

Indeed, it is true that the mere fact of possessing 
wealth is fraught with fearful peril. "It is easier 
for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than 
for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of God;" 
it is not impossible, for with God all things are possi- 
ble. Our Lord clearly intends us to understand that 
it is barely "possible." In fact, there are few per- 
sons of great wealth who show signs of earnest 
piety and consecration to God. Wealth fosters 
pride; it puts families into social relations which 
bring in the world upon them like a flood; with 
money in abundance, it is so easy to gratify every 
appetite and lust. A man's riches arc just so much 
of this world as he has in his control; with so much 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 349 

of the world in his possession, how can he disengage 
his heart from it? and "if any man love the world, 
the love of the Father is not in him." "how 
hardly shall they that have riches enter into the 
kingdom of God!" 

I say it deliberately, and with profound convic- 
tion, I am thankful to God that I am a poor man; 
a thousand times have I felt a profound sense of 
gratitude to God that my father was a poor man. I 
think it not unlikely that if in my youth I had had 
money to spend freely, I should have gone to de- 
struction. 

But some rich men are saved, thank God! and 
when a man of wealth does keep himself in the love 
of God, and order his house according to the sim- 
plicity of the gospel, he is almost sure to be a man 
of very pronounced piety; he has had to resist the 
world at so many points, and against such strenuous 
attacks, that he has acquired a line tone of spiritual 
muscle; he has had to stand against the insidious 
and persistent approaches and importunities of a 
fashionable and godless society, with such strength 
as to bring out all that is in him. 

The law of compensation is a beautiful one, and 
holds, I believe, everywhere; we find it here: the 
hazards of wealth are compensated by its opportuni- 
ties. What hosts of friends a Christian who is rich 
has the opportunity of making! If lie has "done 
wisely," he will find the bank on the other side of 
the river lined with them, and a deafening clamor of 
welcome will greet him as he ascends, dripping from 
the cold flood. 



350 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

" Charge them that are rich in this world, that 
they be not high-minded, nor trust in uncertain 
riches, but in the living God, who giveth us richly 
all things to enjoy; that they do good, that they be 
rich in good works, ready to distribute, willing to 
communicate; laying up in store for themselves a 
good foundation against the time to come, that they 
may lay hold on eternal life." A good foundation — 
that is, a good deposit. Read 1 Tim. vi. 6-19. 

The second application which our Lord makes of 
this parable is contained in the tenth, eleventh and 
twelfth verses : " He that is faithful in that which is 
least, is faithful also in much; and he that is unjust 
in the least, is unjust also in much. If therefore ye 
have not been faithful in the unrighteous mammon, 
who will commit to your trust the true riches? And. 
if ye have not been faithful in that which is another 
man's, who shall give you that which is your own." 

The sum of this is : Money gives the test of character. 
What a man is, is ascertained in his conduct witk re- 
spect to property. 

Every thing that makes up the world is concen- 
trated in money. It represents all values; it will 
buy every thing; it stands for every thing. The 
whole question of character hinges upon the rela- 
tive hold which God and the world have upon us, 
and as the world comes into concentrated expres- 
sion in money, just there is the test. God has trusted 
us with more or less of it, and has put in our way 
greater or less opportunity of acquiring it. The 
use of it according to his will, on the one hand, or in 
disregard of his will, for the gratification of our own 



Our Lord's. Doctrine Respecting Riches. 35 i 

desires, on the other, will determine the whole mat- 
ter. If a man is a bad man, his relation to money 
will bring it out; he will make money by wrong- 
doing, more or less pronounced ; or he will hoard it 
covetously, or he will spend it according to the dic- 
tates of pride and lust. If he is a good man, his 
relations to money will ascertain the fact; he will 
be scrupulous in acquiring it, will invest it with 
thoughtful reference to God's will, and spend it 
with a view to his Maker's approval. There is no 
rule as to how much may be used as capital; but he 
will consider of that in the light of such general 
principles and directions as he may find in the Bible; 
he will, in all things, recognize the fact that he is a 
steward only, and not the proprietor. 

The least of all the trusts that God has committed to 
us is money. All spiritual treasures belong to a class 
of values infinitely higher; but he that is faithful 
in the least, is faithful also in much; and he that is 
unjust in the least, is unjust also in much. Money 
gives the test of character; if ye have not been faith- 
ful in the unrighteous mammon — the least of all 
the values God has intrusted you with, so small that 
it is no true wealth — who will commit to your trust 
the true riches, the things that appertain to eternal 
life? Money gives the test of character. 

You have just taken a new servant into your 
employment; you know nothing of him; you in- 
trust him with money to make purchases in small 
amounts. At first you give him only small pieces — 
nickels, dimes, postal currency. You are experi- 
menting; you are testing him. You soon increase 



352 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

the amount; he always returns the full amount of 
change ; he shows every mark of candor and integ- 
rity ; you never miss even the smallest amount. He 
has been with you ten years now, and has never de- 
ceived you; you say, "I can trust John; I have tried 
him; I would not hesitate to put a thousand dollars 
in his hands." Years pass, and you cease to keep 
account of the money he handles, and you say, "I 
know this man; I would not hesitate to trust him 
with unestimated diamonds; his integrity is above 
temptation." But if at first you had lost a dime by 
him, now and then, it would have proved him to be 
of bad character; none of your diamonds would he 
have handled. 

My brother, God has committed money to you, 
the thing of least value that he has; be sure that if 
you are unfaithful to him in handling that, it shows 
just simply that you are unfaithful to him. That is 
only the accident that has brought the fact of your 
unfaithfulness to the surface. You are unfaithful; 
you can never have the true riches; that is too pre- 
cious to be committed to such hands. 

How careful you are in handling another man's 
money! If it is your own, you feel that you can do 
as you please; if you spend it carelessly, and keep 
no account, that is your affair; but if it belongs to 
your neighbor, you must keep a strict account; you 
must be able to show how every five cents was dis- 
posed of, and that to his satisfaction. But, in fact, 
you never had a dime that was your own in all your 
life; the property of it is in your Maker, and if 
you are reckless of his rights, it betrays a character 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 353 

which must inevitably preclude all hope of higher 
trusts and employments. You cannot afford to 
spend the smallest coin — not even the coppers — in a 
way you know to be displeasing to him; you must 
be ready to account to him for all. 

" And if you have not been faithful in that which 
is another man's, who shall give you that which is 
your own ? " 

You cannot claim your own from a man whose 
property you are wasting; he will hold what he has 
of yours in his possession to force you to fair deal- 
ing; and he will do right. We may say that the 
spiritual inheritance is, in a high sense, our own; it 
is the destiny we were created for. But we forfeit 
it by false dealing with God in what is his. What 
gems do we exchange for brass! We relinquish 
crowns for baubles, the birthright of eternity for a 
mess of postage. It is a sad business to make free 
with our Maker's gold, to pocket it and squander it, 
so that we can give no honest account of it, and 
thus forfeit our own diamonds. 

The third application is in the thirteenth verse: 
"No servant can serve two masters: for either he 
will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will 
hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot 
serve God and mammon." 

God will have no partnership with money in our 
allegiance to him. If our hearts are given to money 
they are not given to God. The mercenary man is 
not a Christian, however he may deceive himself; 
the heart that is given to this world is alienated 
from God; he is a jealous God, and will occupy no 



354 Oar Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

divided throne. There is no more deadly sin than 
cupidity; there is nothing that hardens the heart 
like it; it indurates a man against every call of hu- 
manity and every voice of God. 

It is believed by many godly men that covetous- 
ness is the great sin of the Church. There can be 
no doubt of its wide-spread prevalence. But there 
is no other sin so difficult to deal with. It lurks in 
the most unexpected places; it puts on the most 
perfect disguises. It is impossible to judge a man 
with confidence in this matter; if he says, "I must 
increase my capital because my business opportuni- 
ties are extending, and I have consecrated all to 
God," you cannot call his candor in question; if 
he says, "You do not know my business; no man 
knows it but myself; I must be just before I am gen- 
erous; you do not know the relation of my debts to 
my capital; my first duty is to my creditors," you 
cannot gainsay a word of it; or, if he shall say, 
" My family is large, and necessarily very expensive; 
my children must be educated; a man must first 
take care of his own, and especially those of his own 
household," you cannot find fault with it. In all 
these cases he may be governed by the most consci- 
entious regard for God's will in the use of his 
means. But he may, also, be deceiving himself; it may 
be that his own covetous heart is framing plausible 
but false excuses; there is inward monition with un- 
easiness; conscience and good sense alike upbraid 
him; there is a struggle between his conscience to- 
ward God and his love of gold, but the love of gold 
has the best of it. lie knows that in his case his ex- 



Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 355 

cuses are mere excuses, but he voluntarily turns 
away from his own convictions, tries to impose upon 
himself, does it in a measure, and the love of gold 
prevails. He serves mammon; he does not serve God. 
lie must serve God, and make his gold serve God, 
or else he serves gold. 

" Covetousness is idolatry;" and the word of the 
Lord is explicit upon this point — that " no covetous 
man who is an idolater can inherit the kingdom of God." 
The use of money must be held actually subject to 
the claim of Christ. 

Ye cannot serve God and mammon. 

Here the parable and its applications end. We 
have gone through both the narrative and the doc- 
trine of it; but an incident followed this discourse 
of our Lord which is very striking and significant: 
his auditors were not all well pleased with it; there 
were some . who criticised it with severity; it was 
new to them, and as distasteful as it was new. 

"And the Pharisees also, who were covetous, 
heard all these things, and they derided him." 
They not only criticised the doctrine, but derided 
the Author of it; this view of proprietorship and 
property, and of the uses of property, revolted them. 
They were covetous, and derided him — literally 
turned up their noses at him; they treated both his 
doctrine and him with contemptuous disdain. 

There may be some who hear me to-day who are 
covetous. I do not expect to be derided — at least, 
not to my face. You will not turn up your nose 
at me — you are too well-mannered for that; but, 
nevertheless, you will give this Sermon the go-by, 



356 Our Lord's Doctrine Respecting Riches. 

as teaching a preposterous doctrine about money. 
But, remember, it is the Lord's doctrine, and not 
mine. If this passage means any thing, it means just 
what I have repeated to you this day; if you dis- 
credit it, you discredit the Master, not me; if you 
trifle with it, you trifle with the word of God. 



Christ ami the Church. 357 



(prist and the (purdr. 



SERMON XI. 

"Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto 
the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife, even as 
Christ is the head of the church: and he is the Saviour of the 
body. Therefore as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the 
wives be to their own husbands in everything. Husbands, love 
your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave him- 
self for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it with the wash- 
ing of water by the word, that he might present it to himself a 
glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle, or any such thing; 
but that it should be holy and without blemish. So ought 
men to love their wives, as their own bodies. He that loveth 
his wife loveth himself. For no man ever yet hated his own 
flesh; but nourisheth and cherisheth it, even as the Lord the 
church: for we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of 
his bones. For this cause shall a man leave his father and 
mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall 
be one flesh. This is a great mystery: but I speak concerning 
Christ and the church. Nevertheless, let every one of you in 
particular so love his wife even as himself: and the wife see 
that she reverence her husband." Eph. v. 22-33. 

IH AYE announced this text not with the purpose 
of delivering a homily on the duties of husbands 
and wives, nor, indeed, of treating of the relation of 



358 Christ and the Church. 

husband and wife, except as it bears upon the main 
purpose of the apostle in the passage; he uses it 
to illustrate the relation between Christ and the 
Church, and it is this aspect of it that I shall pre- 
sent. 

Several of the domestic relations are used in Holy 
Scripture to illustrate the relation of God's people 
to him. We are " servants;" God has the absolute 
right and authority of a Master, and we are under 
the corresponding obligation of absolute obedience. 
But we are in a relation higher than that of mere 
servants; with the obligation of the servant, we are 
in the more endearing relation of children; we have 
the adoption of sons. These relations are predicated 
of the individual Christian. * 

But there is another one of the domestic relations 
— the dearest of all — which illustrates the relation 
of the people of God, collectively — the Church — to 
our Lord Jesus Christ; this is the relation of hus- 
band and wife. This illustration is given by the 
apostle in the text more largely than in any other 
one place. 

The principal fact in the relation of the husband 
and wife is the closeness of the bond in which they 
are united; it amounts, in a very strong sense, to 
actual unity. "For this cause shall a man leave his 
father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, 
and they two shall be one flesh." Our principal 
postulate, then, is this: 

The husband and wife are one. 

This is not mere poetry, or romance; it is most 
deeply true and real; nor is it a fact so recondite as 



Christ and the Church. 359 

to be incapable of analysis. I propose to take a near 
view of it, to consider the elements of the unity, 
that we may see how singularly beautiful the unity 
of Christ and the Church is, and how deep the par- 
allel with the marital relation lies; for there is the 
same relation of unity between Christ and the Church. 

1. The husband and wife are one in their interests. 
Their fortunes are identical; the husband cannot be 
rich and the wife poor; no more can the reverse be 
true — the husband poor and the wife rich. 

There is a tendency in modern legislation to create 
separate property-interests, especially in cases where 
the wife inherits property. The purpose of such 
legislation seems to be to secure the patrimony of 
the wife from being dissipated by a worthless or 
profligate husband. No doubt there are many cases 
of extreme hardship. Ladies reared in luxury, and 
inheriting property, are not unfrequently married to 
men whose misfortunes or vices waste all and reduce 
them to absolute want; yet I doubt not that, take the 
world over, womanhood is in its best estate where 
marriage is all that God ordained it to be. Legisla- 
tion that looks to provide for exceptional cases is 
always of doubtful expediency. 

The unity of the conjugal relation is the rock on 
which society reposes; whatever tends to weaken it 
tends to general disruption, and to the decay of pub- 
lic virtue. That the creation of separate property- 
rights does tend to weaken it there can be no doubt. 

Marriage-contracts have the same tendency. I 
would marry no woman under a special contract 
with regard to property; I will be every thing to a 



360 Christ and the Church. 

woman, or I will be nothing to her, in any special 
way. A woman that will not trust me absolutely, 
both as to my integrity and good sense, can never 
be my wife. 

But even where there are separate interests created 
by law, if there is the real conjugal affection, it will 
amount to nothing in fact. If the woman trusts her 
husband, he will have his way about the property; 
and even if the formal legal reservation of rights is 
not removed, yet, so far as enjoyment of any actual 
advantage is concerned, he will enter into full par- 
ticipation of it all; if she owns a good house, and 
lives in it, he will live in it, too; all the fruits of 
wealth in domestic comfort and luxury are enjoyed 
by both alike; the one by whom the property comes 
will take especial pleasure in seeing the other enjoy 
it; they are, in fact, one in their interests. 

Does this represent any thing as between Christ 
and his Church? 

Let us see. We have it from St. Paul that Christ 
is constituted Head over all things. You will ob- 
serve that it is not as he is divine — the Son of God 
— that he is Head over all things; but it is in his 
mediatorial office, as he is the God-man, that he is 
invested with the control of the universe; all nature 
is in his possession, as well as the spiritual realm. 
But it is not for his own behoof that this universal 
proprietorship is placed in his hands; he is made 
"Head over all. things for the Church;" "he that 
overcometh shall inherit all things;" "all things are 
yours.''* There cannot be any doubt that the affairs 
of nature are ordered with reference to the Church ; 



Christ and the Church. 361 

the resources of the universe are commanded by her 
exigences. We may not understand it now, but it 
is divinely true that all things are working together 
for good to them that love God. 

Measure the earth; take an inventory of all its 
riches ; estimate the treasures of its forests, its fields, 
its mines ; fathom the ocean ; make a catalogue of all 
its tribes, its corals, its pearls; stretch your line over 
all the reaches of solar space ; pass through the empty 
abysses beyond to the region of the fixed stars; con- 
template these amazing masses and magnitudes — 
these riches of nature; then estimate all spiritual 
grandeurs and forces which glorify nature with intel- 
ligence ; behold it all — the magnificent dowry of the 
Bride of Christ! 

2. The husband and wife are one in reputation. 
You can scarcely separate them in this respect; 
they rise or sink together. The reputation of a 
man's wife is as important to him as his own; in- 
deed, it is, if possible, more so; he is, in fact, more 
sensitive to her good name than to his own; he may 
afford to have his own name bandied about, but not 
his wife's ; that must not be trifled with ; the highest 
conceivable indignity to him would be an insult to 
her — that is the one thing he cannot bear. 

A disreputable woman drags her husband down, in 
spite of everything. No man can command any re- 
spect if his wife is infamous; in fact, the most de- 
graded character on earth, the one most despised, and 
in universal estimation the most contemptible and 
odious, is the conscious and consenting husband of 
a base woman. If a man's own name is to be kept 
16 



362 Christ and the Church. 

savory, his wife must be in the odor of chastity; his 
house is absolutely in her keeping. 

On the other hand, a woman takes rank in society 
with her husband; she goes up or down in the social 
scale with him; if he is the most honored man in 
the community, she meets with deference in every 
circle on his account; if he is the Governor of the 
State, she is the honored object of every most deli- 
cate attention; if he is the President of the United 
States, she dispenses the hospitalities of the nation 
in the White House; if he is crowned king or em- 
peror, she is at his side, distinguished equally with 
him in the imposing formalities and the homage of 
the hour, and the crown that is set on her head 
blazes with more abundant and costlier diamonds 
than his own; she is the participant of all his 
highest honors, nor can he endure that the recogni- 
tion she receives should come short of that which lie 
himself commands; what is done to her is done to 
him, and any failure of due regard for her must be 
received as a disparagement of himself. Is not all 
this true also as between Christ and the Church? 

Christ is estimated in this world by the character 
of his people ; the only real disparagement he suffers 
among men arises from the unholy lives of his 
avowed followers; his name is above every name — 
all-glorious — but ah! how often has it happened 
that those who bear it draggle it in the mire of re- 
proach ! 

I have long since lost all concern about the at- 
tacks of infidels, no matter with what wit, and lit- 
erary polish, or parade of learning; no weapon that 



Christ and the Church. 363 

is raised against him shall prosper; but he may he 
wounded in the house of his friends, and often has 
been. 

Soon after I had united with the Church I had an 
experience I am sure I can never forget. I was in 
the saddle, on the Lord's-day, on my way to a social 
meeting in the country. The aspects of the au- 
tumnal scenery are as distinct in my memory as if 
it had been only yesterday: the warm sun lay upon 
the mottled foliage, and there seemed the hush of a 
hallowed peace upon the face of nature. All at 
once the thought came to me, " I am in the Church, 
and it is in my power now, by my unholy living, to 
bring a blot on the Church, and to dishonor the 
Saviour." For a time the reflection seemed insup- 
portable; it was almost more than I could bear. 
"The name of God," said the prophet, "is blas- 
phemed among the Gentiles through you." 

E"o doubt, many a time people of the world seek 
occasion against the followers of Christ, and judge 
them hastily and wrongfully; but, after all that is 
allowed for, there is wrong-doiug enough in the 
Church to do deep injury to the Master's cause and 
name; and there is greater hinderance of religion in 
this than in all the malignity of its most virulent 
enemies. 

But if the Lord is dishonored by the inconsisten- 
cies of his people — if he suiters reproach from false 
professors and weak disciples — it is true, also, that 
those who make up his true Church shall be par- 
takers of his glory. "As I have overcome and am 
set down with my Father in his throne, if ye over- 



364 Christ and the Church. 

come ye shall sit with me in my throne;'' "if we 
suffer with him we shall also reign with him;" we 
shall "enter into the joy of our Lord;" in the day 
of his coronation the Bride shall be at his side, and 
shall receive the crown of life at his hand ; the place 
of honor shall be hers, and she shall be radiant in 
the full, reflected splendors of her Lord. 

At the beginning of my ministry I avoided some 
of Mr. Charles Wesley's most magnificent hymns — 
those that represented saints in glory as having a 
place above the angels; but, brethren, there can be 
nothing more certain. Saved men will be the highest 
order of intelligent beings in the universe. The 
nature in which the Son of God incarnated himself, 
the nature that he assumed to himself, cannot but be 
upon the highest plane of created being. Through 
this close relationship of the Son to man, those who 
accept him by faith are impregnated with life from 
God, so that they become "partakers of the divine 
nature;" ay, and when we see him we shall be like 
him, for we shall see him as he is; even our "vile 
bodies," when they are raised, "shall be fashioned 
like unto his glorious body." It is most deeply true 
that Christ and the Church are one in reputation ; 
even in this life the reputation of his people is dear 
to him as his own ; they are the " apple of his eye ;" 
what is "clone to one of the least of them is done to 
him." It is better that a man should have a mill- 
stone tied about his neck, and be cast into the sea, 
than that he should offend one of these little ones; 
so will he vindicate the dishonored name of his 
people that love him and confess him among men. 



Christ and the Church. 365 

3. The husband and wife are one in lore. One of 
the chief mysteries of life is the unity in love real- 
ized between two who are truly united in marriage. 
There is a profound sense in which they flow into 
each other. Common experiences bring about a 
common consciousness; they come, in the run of 
years, to think alike, to feel alike, to act alike, to 
have the same desires, and to be moved by a com- 
mon will. They sometimes come, actually, to look 
alike; they enter largely into each other's life. 

I was once at the house of a gentleman in the 
State of Mississippi when his wife died. He was a 
man of high culture, and deep and most delicate 
sensibilities. I attempted some words of condo- 
lence, hut felt that my poor speech was almost an 
impertinence in the presence of such a grief. He 
saw my embarrassment. "Ah! sir," said he, "you 
know nothing about this; you have never looked 
upon the face of your dead wife. I feel as if death 
had struck his talons into one side of me and torn 
the half away, and left the ruptured muscles and 
torn nerves all quivering and exposed/*' I could 
well believe it; they were one in love; she had come 
to be almost a part of his own conscious being. 

Is it so between Christ and the Church? Read 
the seventeenth chapter of the Gospel according to 
St. John. What a depth and mystery of love is 
there ! " Neither pray I for these alone, hut for them 
also which shall believe on me through their word: 
that they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, 
and I in thee, that they also maybe one in us: that 
the world mav believe that thou hast sent me. And 



366 Christ and the Church. 

the glory which thou gavest me I have given them; 
that they may be one, even as we are one; I in them, 
and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in 
one; and that the world may know that thou hast 
sent me, and hast loved them, as thou hast loved 
me." There is the consciousness of unity in love! 
He is the Vine, and his people are the branches; he is 
the Head, and they are the body — the members. So 
close and real is the unity of Christ and the Church. 
4. The husband and wife reappear, united, in their chil- 
dren. Did it ever occur to you that the maternity of 
the children of God is in the Church? Zion travails 
and brings forth sons and daughters to God. The 
chief instrumentality in the conversion of men is 
the word of God, and the word becomes effectual to 
this end through the ministry of the Church, with 
the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven. The vital 
power is of God, but it becomes operative through 
the Church. It is the Church that preserves the 
written word in its integrity, and so maintains the 
authoritative standard of doctrine. But, chiefly, as 
the word is ministered by the living voice, and in 
the ordinances of God's house, with prayer, does it 
lead men to an actual experience of grace. The 
part the Church performs in the salvation of men 
is not formal and official merely, but real and vital; 
so much so, that it is only through the Church that 
men are brought to God. But for the agency of 
the Church the word of God, and all knowledge of 
Christ, must have perished out of the world long 
ago; in that case, the work of salvation must have 
come to an end. 



Christ and the Church. 367 

If the ritualists exalt the Church unduly, as no 
doubt they do, there is, perhaps, a tendency on the 
other hand to undervalue it. Ecclesiastical mech- 
anism and manipulation can save no man; sacra- 
mentarianism is a most fatal delusion. Yet it is 
through the faith and witnessing power of the 
Church, in its ministers and members, that the 
Holy Spirit works in conviction and conversion. 
Yes, it is true that the maternity of the children of God 
is in the Church. 

The father and mother are blended in their chil- 
dren; the blood of both flows in the same veins. 
The features very often show a striking likeness of 
both parents; there maybe seen the general con- 
tour of the one, with the color of hair and eyes, and 
the complexion of the other; there maybe the men- 
tal traits of the one, with the temperament of the 
other. In the subtle and indefinable lines that give 
expression, and the light that comes and goes in 
the countenance, with varying moods, the two are 
most delicately yet palpably mingled. How deftly 
has the Creator wrought in this divinest work of 
art, the human countenance, to bring out the inner 
spiritual light in the facial lines and angles! By 
what dexterous, vital touches — by what inward, in- 
timate blending at the very sources of life — are these 
undefined, inexplicable subtleties of finish in lip 
and eye wrought from two into one, as if most at- 
tenuate star-beams had been tangled so that tints of 
both should show, the one predominating here, the 
other there, in unpremeditated harmony ! 

The children of God take certain traits and a cer- 



368 Christ and the Church. 

tain expression from the Church through whose 
agency they have been brought to the knowledge 
of Christ. Perhaps it is scarcely too much to say 
that every Christian has, more or less strongly 
marked, a certain type of spiritual character, which 
he received from the Church in which he was born 
into the kingdom of God. It is a true divine life 
into which he has been born — a life he has from the 
actual fatherhood and vital presence of God; but 
there is a maternal relation to it in some particular 
Church, through the agency of which he was brought 
under the saving influences of the Spirit. From this 
maternal side, detracting nothing from the genuine- 
ness of the divine power, there is a certain modifica- 
tion of spiritual character. Take any two or more 
Churches you know: there is a certain unity in 
each one, and each has its individual character- 
istics; and the converts coming into each almost 
inevitably take on the common type. With the 
same spiritual life from God, there are modifications 
of it due to the matrix from which it came into act- 
ual consciousness. I have been the pastor of dif- 
ferent Churches in the same city — Churches that 
offered strong contrasts in many particulars; but, 
invariably, the new convert, coming into the one or 
the other, has grown up into the maternal expres- 
sion. These differences between Churches are some- 
times very important, sometimes less so; sometimes 
they are compatible with the highest states of grace, 
but in other instances they are just the difference 
between a robust and a feeble spiritual constitution; 
in some instances they touch the essential character 



Christ and the Church. 369 

of the Church, in others they appear in particulars 
that are only incidental. 

This vital relation of the Church to the spiritual 
character of its members is a fact of great practical 
moment, and must not be hurriedly dismissed; it is 
scarcely possible, indeed, to overestimate it; it is a 
question in which the reproductive efficiency of the 
Church is involved, and which concerns her respon- 
sibility to her risen Lord. There are Churches so 
enervated by worldliness, Churches in which there 
is such spiritual debility, that sinners are never 
awakened, souls are never converted, through their 
instrumentality. If any "join the Church," it is 
upon a feeble impulse, and seems to involve no real 
change of character; or, if new converts by any 
means come in, they soon fall into a dead, formal 
state, or, more frequently, backslide outright. Other 
Churches are so full of the Spirit of Christ that 
souls are converted ever at short intervals, and the 
converts are, with few exceptions, brought to a high 
state of religious enjoyment and activity. 

I have two instances in my mind — one of each 
class — two Churches at opposite poles of religious 
character; one was in a deplorable condition of 
spiritual decay; there were no prayer-meetings, no 
class-meetings, though the house of worship was in 
a town of some size, and within easy reach of the 
larger portion of the members; what was worse, 
there were envies and jealousies among them, grow- 
ing out of business rivalry and domestic feuds. 

Strange to say, there was a revival in this inert 
and backslidden Church — a revival of great extent; 
16* 



370 Christ and the Church. 

over one hundred persons applied for membership; 
it was in the time when the six-months' probation 
was in vogue. This revival, as you may well believe, 
was not indigenous ; it was the fruit of special labors 
on the part of preachers from abroad, and even this 
wonderful work of God produced little apparent 
effect on the old members ; the jealousies, and strifes, 
and backbitings, continued ; still, there was, after the 
special revival occasion passed, no prayer-meeting, 
no class-meeting; there was only the stated preach- 
ing, at long intervals. There was no maternal con- 
sciousness in the Church; the "babes in Christ'' had 
no care, no nursing; the result was, they perished 
by scores; there was no atmosphere of religion in 
the social life around them; they were but in their 
infancy, and, unfed, untended, there was not in them 
sufficient vitality to resist the chill temperature of 
worldliness to which they were perpetually exposed, 
and they perished — perished in virtual orphanage; 
they fell, one by one, into open sin, and, at the end 
of six months, only one in eight or nine of them, as 
I remember the case, were ready to be received into 
full connection; the others were in a more hopeless 
case than before their conversion. 

The other instance I referred to was a Church in 
the country — a large Society, which, when I first 
knew it, w T as worshiping in a school-house; it was 
divided into three classes, each having a most exem- 
plary and faithful leader. My immediate personal 
knowledge of this Church ran through a period of 
five years, and in that time there were one hundred 
and thirty-five accessions to it; I believe this was the 



Christ and the Church. 371 

exact number. During this five years there was not 
one instance of backsliding — not one! Instances of in- 
cipient backsliding there were; one and another of 
the young converts became cold, fell into temptation 
and into sin; but they which were "spiritual soon 
restored such an one." Those class-leaders — I am 
tempted to write their names; they are written in 
the book of life — whenever one of the young mem- 
bers began to wander, saw him, conversed with him, 
pleaded with him. what prayers they did offer — 
full of sympathy, full of faith — prayers inspired by 
the Holy Spirit! Nor were the class-leaders alone; 
godly men and women by scores — neighbors, friends, 
and relatives of the erring one — would surround him 
with such a warmth of holy love and affectionate re- 
monstrance that he was brought back by a sort of 
gentle violence, and it seemed impossible for him to 
wander. Not unfrequently the restored delinquent 
became more zealous and consistent than he had 
ever been ; but if he had been in a community where 
there was no one to care for his soul, after the first 
slip he would have been clean gone forever. 

In this community the predominant influence was 
in the Church; the leading citizens and a majority 
of the people were its members; the men of highest 
standing were the most simple-hearted and devout. 
A very favorable fact was that there were no lines 
of social discrimination and disparagement; the 
well-to-do families were not purse-proud; it was a 
rural population, and all were on an equal footing; 
there was no social ostracism, except in the case of 
two or three families who were known to be of de- 



372 Christ and the Church. 

graded character. But this predominant Church in- 
fluence was not an influence of mere Churchism; it 
did not, in the slightest degree, take on the character 
of Church pride; it was purely, sweetly Christian; 
it was a pronounced atmosphere of godliness, full of 
conscience and full of love; it was a very invigorat- 
ing, bracing atmosphere to the spiritual constitution. 
While I was the pastor, a case occurred that will 
serve to illustrate, in a very striking way, the matter 
of which I am now speaking. We were holding a 
protracted meeting. Atone of the morning prayer- 
meetings a man whom I had never seen came in 
after the service had commenced; he was a misera- 
ble-looking object; his dress was of the coarsest 
material, very scanty and very much worn; he had 
on neither coat nor vest; he entered with a sort of 
stealthy movement, and slunk into the remotest part 
of the room, crouching down rather than seating 
himself. After the meeting closed I went with one 
of the class-leaders to dinner. As we rode along, he 
said, with much feeling, "Verily, I am guilty con- 
cerning my brother," and then proceeded to tell me 
about Aleck Smith. He had never been seen at 
church before; was a very dissipated man, addicted 
to low vices, and had been repeatedly under suspi- 
cion of petit larceny. " I felt," said he, " that I ought 
to speak to him on the subject of his salvation; the 
Spirit of God must be at work with him, or he would 
never have come to the meeting; but his character 
is so bad that I thought it would scarcely be worth 
while to approach him. Yet I know he is under 
conviction; his countenance shows it. My con- 



Christ and the Church. 373 

science condemns me; I have clone wrong; I have al- 
lowed an opportunity of doing good to pass. If God 
will forgive me for this I will see this man, if I have 
to go to his house." But at night Aleck was there 
again; he came in early, and got back into a corner. 
Throughout the service his head was bowed; he 
Avas weeping. No sooner was the call made for 
those who desired to seek God than my good broth- 
er, mindful of his pledge, and in earnest to save a 
soul, made his way to the miserable man, laid his 
hand upon his shoulder, and said, "Aleck, come and 
go to heaven with us." Can you question the result? 

The next morning the poor, contrite penitent came 
and brought his family. The drooped figure of the 
wife walking up the road, in her faded, limp dress, 
and limber sun-bonnet, I can never forget. With the 
three daughters — the eldest verging toward young 
womanhood, shabby and shamefaced— these parents 
came; a group as woe-begone as could have been 
found in twenty miles. The long-suffering wife was 
but too glad to join company with her husband in 
the new life ; and the susceptible children — of course 
they would follow. 

At the end of the service my faithful class-leader, 
who had come with his family in a two-horse wagon, 
said, "Aleck, come bring your wife and children; 
get into my wagon, and go home with me to dinner." 
Ah! what a stroke of policy was that! But the 
man of God had no thought of policy — it was the 
pure prompting of love; a generous heart is the 
most consummate strategist in the service of our 
Master. Poor Smith ! it was the first time any man 



374 Christ and the Church. 

of respectability had invited him to dinner for many 
a year; and as for the children, they had never been 
inside of a decent honse. 

You ought to have seen that family three months 
later. What a transformation ! It was life from the 
dead in more respects than one. 

But there were sinister predictions enough about 
Smith. "These Methodists have taken a tough job 
this time; they'll have one backslider now, for cer- 
tain ; the fellow will be drunk in less than six weeks, 
and stealing somebody's pigs, too!" Perhaps the 
prophets of evil would have been glad to see the 
benevolent labors of God's people defeated; but the 
poor sinner that had sought shelter in the fold had 
fallen into good hands. If he had come into a fash- 
ionable and worldly Church, probably the worst pre- 
dictions would have been realized; he would have 
found no efficient sympathy, no helping hand; and 
he needed the helping hand. Truly, he had reason 
to thank God, for the lines had fallen to him in 
pleasant places: these simple-hearted men said, one 
to another, " We must take care of Smith; we must 
keep him out of temptation; we must give him 
work at fair wages, to feed his family, and keep him 
from his former associations." "Yes," said one, "I 
want a hand for a few weeks; I will employ him 
immediately." From one to another he went among 
the brethren that year; the next he rented a little 
farm, and soon found, what he had never before 
dreamed of, that he, even he, had it in his power to 
put his family on a good footing with the respect- 
able people of the neighborhood. 



Christ and the Church. 375 

I never knew a more faithful man. He lived in 
good odor for some time ; but I confess I trembled 
for him when I heard he had started for California: 
would he have strength enough to stand when sepa- 
rated from those friends who had held him up? 
But good news came from him on the plains; he 
was the only man in the train who had family- 
prayers in his tent, night and morning; no fatigue, 
no stress of camp duties, could induce him to omit 
it. Later still, good news came back from Smith — 
the best news of all; he had been released; from 
the foot of the Rocky Mountains he had gone to be 
with his Lord forever. He died praying for his 
family, and blessing and praising God — "a sinner 
saved by grace." 

The child is to be pitied whose mother is too 
sickly, or too fashionable, for personal nursing, so 
that she must commit it to the mercies of a hired 
substitute; and doubly so if it has inherited a feeble 
or a diseased constitution. ~Eo hands can caress a 
child, or swathe it, like a mothers; no eye can beam 
upon it like hers; no voice can baptize its heart 
with such a wealth of tenderness; no other ear can 
be so quick to the faintest cry. None like her can 
bear with all its weaknesses; none on earth can so 
train its tongue to truth, and form its soul to honor. 

It may seem strange that there should ever be a 
true spiritual life in a diseased state; but who can 
doubt that it is often so? Surely God has many 
chilclren in this evil world who have inherited a 
scrofulous taint from the mother. Yes! and these 
are the ones who stand in greatest need of maternal 



376 Christ and the Church. 

care, but never get it. A robust child may survive 
neglect, but those that are born half dead, born of 
a Church smitten with the plague of worldliness, 
are the very ones who must be put out to nurse. 
In such a Church the instinct of spiritual maternity 
is almost dead; but her little ones must have some 
attention, for decency's sake, if nothing else, and 
she has plenty of money; she will hire a trained 
nurse; so, with much higgling about salary and 
perquisites, and stipulation for vacation two months 
and a half in the hottest weather, the bargain is 
struck. 

Henceforth the perfunctory attention of the well- 
dressed and scholarly pastor is all the care that 
spiritual infancy is to expect in this Church; two 
meals on Sunday, and one on Wednesday evening, 
are all it is to expect, and these — one part gospel, 
with three parts science and philosophy, and six 
parts rhetoric — are all the food it is to have. Can 
the scrofulous little creature survive? If so, what a 
sallow weakling it must be, wholly incapable of 
achievement in the work of God! 

The Church needs, to-day, above all things, a de- 
velopment of spiritual muscle. There are battles to 
be fought — battles against vice and infidelity; the 
Church wants sons who can meet the enemy in the 
gate. There is hard work to be done; there is work 
for laymen as well as for ministers — work in the 
Lord's vineyard. No spiritual drivelers, half fed in 
a cushioned pew on Sunday, and starving their souls 
in vanity-fair all the week, can do this work, or fight 
these battles; only the best maternal heart can bring 



Christ and the Church. 377 

up a race of spiritual men who may be able to do 
God's work in the world. 

Iu order to reach a robust maturity, the child 
must have nutrition suited to its immature condi- 
tion; strong meat is not for babes. There is much 
in the Bible that the babe in Christ cannot masticate, 
much that must be interpreted to it by the intelli- 
gence and heart of older Christians; many things 
that seem strange to the young Christian, and stag- 
ger his faith when they come to him filtered through 
the experience of those who have reached a healthy 
maturity in the Christian life, serve as nourishing 
food and an invigorating draught. I can never for- 
get how much I owe to the few godly men and 
women I knew in the time of my own spiritual in- 
fancy. Religious conversations about the deep tilings 
of God, at the fireside and in the love-feast and class- 
meeting, reduced many things I had read in Script- 
ure to a condition which made them nutritious to 
me; but they required this process. You may de- 
pend upon it, the Church mast provide the food for 
her children, if they are to be fed; the Church, I say 
— the collective Church — and especially in her social 
life; she cannot depend on one man paid to do the 
work. The Church must live by the divine word; 
she must reduce it, feed on it, assimilate it; it must 
enter into her circulation and into her life, and then 
she must give it to her children from the warm se- 
cretions of her own breast; in the conscious warmth 
of a social life all vital with the presence of God, 
she must give them the sincere milk of the word; 
then you shall see how they will " grow thereby." 



378 Christ and the Church. 

But how will that Church stand in the presence 
of the Lord which lets his children perish of neglect? 
It is monstrous! it is unnatural! What wife could 
meet her husband, who had gone off to spend the 
night in pleasures, leaving the sick babe with a 
careless nurse, only to come home and find it dead? 
It perished for want of a mother's vigilance — per- 
ished while she was at the dance! Could she bear 
the reproaches of his eye and voice? There are 
Churches too worldly, too fond of ease, for any effi- 
cient, vital training of young converts, and they 
backslide by thousands for want of it. What a day 
will that be, when we stand before the dishonored 
Bridegroom to give an account for the children com- 
mitted to us — the children who have perished while 
we were taking our ease, or sipping at the cup of 
worldly pleasures! 

5. We have seen that the husband and wife are 
one in their interests, one in reputation, one in love, 
and that they reappear, united, in their children. 
This unity is not mere poetry; it is real, and our 
Lord traces it to the very history of the woman's 
creation. Adam was first formed, and the breath of 
life breathed into him; afterward, a deep sleep was 
caused to come upon him. In this condition he was 
subjected to the skillful surgery of the creative hand; 
God took out a rib, and of it fashioned the first 
woman. The opening eyes of the man were greeted 
with the fair face of woman : " She is bone of my 
bone!" he exclaimed; and they two were, indeed, one 
flesh — the woman was created out of the side of the man. 

And was not the Church created out of the side of 



Christ and the Church. 379 

Christ? Were not his hands and his feet pierced? 
was not his side opened? What agonies he suffered ! 
It was not as when the innocent man slept that the 
woman might he taken from his side without pain; 
in full consciousness he suffered; the Church came 
forth from his body in deathly pain. The birth of 
the Church was, indeed, from deeper places of con- 
sciousness in Christ than were found in his physical 
nature. " My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto 
death." The dreadful surgery that took the Church 
out of his side drove the knife into his inmost soul. 
]S r o wonder he should look upon the fruit of his pain 
with ineffable love! no wonder that the Church 
should look upon his torn body, and exclaim, " We 
are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his 
bones!" To such vital sources is the unity of the 
Church with Christ traced; the Church is an out- 
growth of his person, the vital product of his pierced 
heart. 

6. But in all unity that is not found in the mere 
unit, but in the correlation of parts making a whole, 
there must be a central part — a head — a part in 
which the unity is ascertained, and from which it 
proceeds. In the family the man is the head; "the 
husband is the head of the wife." 

This relation of headship involves authority. Sa- 
rah called Abraham lord; in the divine ordination 
the husband rules. The fact of authority on one 
side involves the duty of obedience on the other. 
" Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands, as 
unto the Lord." But where the marital conscious- 
ness is fully realized on both sides, the matter of 



380 Christ and the Church. 

authority and obedience is scarcely thought of; the 
man does not think of himself as ruling. There is 
such ready and happy adjustment in love that au- 
thority is scarcely conscious of itself; there is no 
tone of assertion or harshness in it. On the part of 
the wife, conformity to the husband's wishes is so 
free and spontaneous that it loses the character of 
mere subjection. If the father is the head of the 
house, the mother is the heart of it, and the heart 
often has its way, too; the head is well pleased to 
have it so, for the heart does not rule over the head, 
but through the head. Nothing more pleases a man 
whose wife is all he desires her to be — the ideal wife 
— than to give her her way on all proper occasions; 
he orders things very much in reference to her 
wishes. 

The authority of Christ over the Church is abso- 
lute — he is King in Zion; he is the Supreme Head — 
but in the ideal Church there is no tone of harsh- 
ness in this authority; hers is not the enforced sub- 
mission of the slave, but the loving obedience of the 
wife; it is her pleasure to do his will; his approba- 
tion is her heaven; his frown would be her torment. 
And is he not pleased to give her her will, also, in 
many things? has he not encouraged her to come to 
him freely, and make all her desires known? does 
she not have her way in prayer? does he not listen 
to her with infinite tenderness? does she not — I 
mean the chaste spouse of Christ, in whom he is well 
pleased, not the wayward Church, tainted with illicit 
carnal loves — does she not, many times, have her 
way through him? does he not, in the greatness of 



.Christ and the Church. 381 

his love, order the household to her taste? It is 
impossible for us to exaggerate the love of Christ to 
a faithful Church; as for her, service is the law of 
her own being; it is not so much a law over her as a 
law in her; to do his will is an impulse rather than 
a service. In his infinite wisdom and strength au- 
thority belongs to him. It is a glorious thing to 
serve such a One; she feels it, and love and adoration 
consummate themselves in the rapture of an eager 
service. 

What is the husband to the wife? He is the head, 
he is every thing; yes, where the wifely consciousness 
is full and strong, he is every thing; nothing has 
any value that displaces him; no joy is joy in which 
he does not participate, which he does not approve; 
she rejoices in his greater strength and force; the 
manly stature towering above her fills her with a 
sweet pride; the magisterial voice falls upon her like 
a baptism; she finds the complement of her being 
in him; her union with him fills out and spheres 
her own consciousness; without him she would be 
incomplete;. her very existence consummates itself 
in him; her eye follows him as he goes to his affairs 
in the morning; her quick ear finds music in his 
distant footfall coming back to her; he is all the 
world to her; she can have no love that is not in 
harmony with his love; her life is bathed in his 
spirit. 

Such, with infinite augmentation of the words, is 
Christ to the Church; he is all in all; he is the 
"chiefest among ten thousand," and "altogether 
lovely;" he is the Head, the Center, the Source of all 



382 Christ and the Church. 

perfection ; he is her Life; her being is consummated 
in him; without him she perishes; without him she 
is nothing; he is the supreme Magnet of her desire; 
his strength is the joy of her weakness; his wisdom 
is the light of her ignorance; the majesty of his 
brow is the triumph of her love; the kingly tone of 
his commands elevates and ennobles her obedience; 
he is her glory, and the crown of all her aspirations 
is her place in his love. Life were perdition without 
him; with him it is paradise. 

7. 'But what is the wife to the husband? We have 
said that if the man is the head, the woman is the 
heart, of the domestic scene; nor is it too much to 
assert that the wife is as much to the husband as the 
husband is to the wife. She, too, is every thing to 
him; no more is she incomplete without him than 
he without her; she completes the sphere of his 
consciousness as he of hers; his existence is con- 
summated in his relation to her. 

No man's happiness is full-orbed until he looks 
upon the woman who is the elect of his heart, and 
calls her his wife. There she stands before him, with 
the vows of her love fresh upon her, his ideal wom- 
an, and all his own ; he has chosen her out of all the 
world; she is his elect; and now she stands, in the 
queenly radiance of her beauty, the tremulous trill 
of her love-charged voice in his ear, pure as the 
pearly dew, cultivated, elegant, and beaming with 
intelligence and faith — his wife. The measure of his 
happiness is full — it overflows ; the very atmosphere 
about him is radiant with the glow of his consum- 
mated joy. 



Christ and the Church. 383 

If he is a man who deserves the name of a man, 
what will he not do for her? what toil will he not 
undergo to preserve her in health and beauty? what 
will not he encounter to shield her from reproach? 
Henceforth all his plans have her for their ultimate 
object; all his labors contemplate her; all his pleas- 
ures consummate themselves in her gratification ; if 
he seeks wealth, it is that he may make his home 
such as satisfies his love for her; his mansion is pro- 
jected for such architectural effect as may meet her 
taste; the grounds are laid off upon a plan that will 
gratify her; statuary, and painting, and elegant fur- 
niture, are but the frame, of which she is the living 
and half divine picture. The joys and agonies of 
maternity have glorified her in his eyes; she is the 
mother of his children ; henceforth she is something 
sacred to him. Such is the wife to her husband. 

And what is the Church to Christ? I speak with 
reverence. The truth of revelation exalts the Church 
in this particular view, to such a degree as over- 
whelms us with amazement; we can scarcely be- 
lieve for joy. I speak but the truth of God's word 
when I say that 

The Church is every thing to Christ. The apostle 
declares, in terms, that the Church is "the fullness 
of him that filleth all in all." How is this ? how can 
it be that such a thing as this should be predicated 
of the Church? The fullness of Christ! What a 
mystery is this! yet how true! 

Would not Christ, the God-man, be incomplete 
without the Church? Was it not simply that there 
might be a Church in the world that he became the 



384 Christ and the Church. 

Anointed of God — the Christ? Can yon imagine a 
Christ without a Church? The conception would 
be absurd. The very idea of a Christ requires the 
corresponding idea of a Church. 

The Church is simply the outcome of the Incar- 
nation — the natural and necessary product of it. 
The Advent and Atonement are without meaning, 
except as they look to the salvation of men, the cre- 
ation of the Church. The garden and the cross find 
their solution in the Church; without it the suffer- 
ings of the divine Man would be monstrous — mon- 
strous, because irrational; but with the Church in 
view as the product of them, they become the most 
glorious truth of human history, radiant and ra- 
tional as a divine instance of beneficent self-sacrifice 
— self-sacrifice finding its only and sufficient com- 
pensation in the blessedness of its beneficiaries. I 
submit that beneficent self-sacrifice is the highest 
utterance of the divine Reason. The Christ-idea, 
therefore, which logically embraces the Church as 
the outcome and exponent of it, is the last and fullest 
word of the divine Reason. The logical reason is 
partial and special; it deals with ideas that are not 
ultimate, but require that which is ultimate to ren- 
der them complete as ideas of the rational mind. 
Man explains nature, gross, and miserable, and mor- 
tal as he is; nature would be a great bauble but for 
him; in his conscious intelligence the uses of nature 
appear. But man himself requires to be explained; 
his heaven -scaling aspirations, overmastered by 
gravitation toward some black, infernal center of 
evil and despair, are an unsolved problem for the 



Christ and the Church. 385 

rational mind. Incarnate Beneficence — suffering, 
saving, creating the Church, breaking the hellward 
fall of man, restoring to him the true center of 
gravity in the celestial sphere, and raising him to 
destinies which are the consummation of those 
higher intimations of his reason which come in faint 
pulses of light, like the play of distant sheet-light- 
ning at midnight, in the most elevated regions of 
thought and hope, at the same time assuring him 
that these flashes of celestial radiance are the reflec- 
tion of that which is deepest, truest, and most real 
in his own being, and give just ground of immortal 
hope — this incarnate Beneficence explains man as 
man explains nature. Indeed, this constitutes man a 
full exponent of nature ; without it nature has but a 
half rational explanation, even in man. But the 
Church, the recipient of celestial benefactions, raised 
to a perfection and dignity that justify the suffer- 
ings of the incarnate One — a perfection in immor- 
tality in which he will find ample reward of his love 
and agony — this Church, the Bride of Christ — well 
might a universe be created to be the place of her 
abode, and supplied with all its most beautiful con- 
trivances as the furniture of her dwelling. Christ 
is the Word, the Logos, the divine Reason, and the 
Church is the exponent of Christ ; it is the product 
of the Incarnation, the fullness of him that filleth 
all in all; without it he would be a barren tree; it 
is the fruit in which he is glorified. I repeat it, with 
awe, yet not too great for joy, The Church is every 
thing to Christ. 

"Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also 
17 



386 Christ and the Church. 

loved the Church, and gave himself for it; that he 
might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of 
water by the word, that he might present it to him- 
self a glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, 
or any such thing; but that it should be holy and 
without blemish." 

What will not a husband do for the honor and 
welfare of his wife? What has not Christ done for 
the Church! "He gave himself for it." This is the 
love that transcends all love. He ^ave himself! You 
know what that means. God coming into vital, per- 
sonal unity with wretched humanity, in all its mis- 
ery, is suggested to your thought; that dreadful 
panorama unrolls itself before your eyes — the. man- 
ger, the garden, the cross, the tomb, the ignominious 
guard of Roman soldiers; he gave himself up to re- 
proach — you think of all the enemies who hated 
and despised him in his life, of the betrayal, and of 
the mob that, with brutal and loud clamor, called 
for his blood; you think of his body on the cross, 
streaming with blood; you think of his soul, sor- 
rowful unto death; you think of that most awful 
forsaking — "My God, my God, why hast thou for- 
saken me?" He gave himself for the Church; he 
gave his divinity, to become incarnate — he did not 
reserve that; he gave his incarnate life — he-did not 
reserve that; he gave himself. 

All this he did for the Church, that he might wash 
it, and cleanse it, and that he might " present it to 
himself a glorious Church, not having spot, or 
\v T rinkle, or any such thing." 

A man is compensated a thousand-fold for all the 



Christ and the Church. 387 

toil and exposure, and the contests and dangers, 
that he undergoes in prosecuting his affairs, if he 
sees as the result of it an elegant and well-provided 
home, the hearth-stone of which glows in the luster 
of her presence — his wife, the mother of his children, 
in intelligence and refinement, in chastity and love, 
in all wifely and maternal virtues — his ideal woman, 
and his in the full monopoly of conjugal election 
and appropriation. Whenever she is present to his 
eye, or even to his thought, he realizes that in her 
well-being, her purity and love, he has the largest 
reward for all he has done, or can do, for her. 

So all that Jesus did and suffered had this end in 
view, that he might present the Church to himself 
a glorious Church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or 
any such thing, holy and without blemish. In her 
he sees the travail of his soul, and is satisfied; he 
rejoiceth over her as a man rejoiceth over the wife 
of his youth; he exclaims, "Thou art all fair, my 
love; there is no spot in thee." " Who is she that 
looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear 
as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?" 
"The daughters saw her, and blessed her," even 
queens "praised her." "The king's daughter is all 
glorious within." He gave himself for her, that he 
might cleanse her, to be all beautiful, all glorious within, 
and now he espouses her to himself, as she stands be- 
fore him, heavenly fair, arrayed in raiment of nee- 
dle-work. Her garment is fine linen, radiant white, 
the righteousness of saints — the w T hitest drapery in 
heaven, for it is the righteousness of God revealed 
in his Son; no angel is so resplendent; no son of 



388 Christ and the Church. 

the morning is so fair. Human nature, impregnated 
with divine purity through the blood of the incar- 
nate One, is the highest in the scale of created being. 
The soul that opens itself to the Crucified by faith 
is vitalized by the touch of his Spirit, and so be- 
comes, in fact, a child of God. To what measures 
of personal intelligence and power, to what destinies 
in achievement and blessedness, to what visions of 
God, to what deep, responsive consciousness of his 
love, to what luster of chaste beauty in his eyes, to 
what fitness for his presence, to what capacity of com- 
munion with him in actual reciprocity of thought 
and joy, the saved soul is to be raised, Ave may not 
now imagine; but these words come to us, over- 
loaded with a meaning we must die to understand: 
'•It doth not yet appear what we shall be; but we 
know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like 
him." There shall be such an elevation of thought 
and feeling — thought and feeling so commensurate 
with the demand of his own nature — that we shall 
be ready for companionship with him, able to enter 
into his joy; ay, and in the presence of the Bride, 
also, will he find joy. 

But our poor speech can aspire to nothing more 
than intimations — shadowy hints — of the glory the 
Church has and shall have in the glory of her Sov- 
ereign. Our imagination attempts these heavens 
with feeble wing; we see the stars, but to our sight 
they only glimmer; what massive worlds they are, 
and how magnificent, we must visit them to learn; 
yet we have some inspiring sense of their grandeur, 
even at this distance. So heaven only glimmers, 



Christ and the Church. 389 

now, in the inaccessible depths of the unseen world; 
yet the glimmer raises in us unutterable hopes, and 
kindles ineffable desire. We shall live with the- 
All-holy; we shall be his — his elect. let us keep 
our garments unspotted from the world! How can 
the Church be so careless of her bridal-robe? how 
can she bear these earth-stained, these grimy, spots 
on the white ground, knowing how soon she is to 
enter into the pavilion of her Lord? 

"Having this hope in us, let us purify ourselves, 
even as he is pure." 

To what extent, in actual life, does the Church 
realize this? Many there are, I cannot doubt, who 
are keeping themselves in the love of God and in 
the patient waiting for Christ; but are there not 
multitudes of members of the visible Church who 
are all unready for his coming? 

Look upon this picture. There is a mansion, the 
home of an opulent family; the general aspect is 
that of massiveness and elegant airiness, combined 
in wonderful perfection of design; Corinthian col- 
umns of pure marble, resting on bases of massive 
and faultless scroll-work, and crowned with richest 
chiseling of acanthus-leaf, front and support the lofty 
portico; through large windows of plate-glass you 
see the deep coloring of luxurious curtains within ; 
the background is an open, unbroken forest, in full 
foliage, the earth well covered with pure, grassy 
verdure; the grounds in front are a maze of squares, 
and angles, and circles, divided by walks and car- 
riage-ways covered with pebble and edged with 
shells; the rarest shrubbery, with all diversities of 



390 Christ and the Church. 

height and foliage, and in most tasteful distribution, 

relieved by flowers waving here and there, in end- 
less variety of hue and odor, makes up a scene of 
beauty that almost rivals Eden ; while ever at points 
of best advantage statuary from Italian chisels is 
disclosed in openings of the shrubbery. 

Within the mansion what shall we see? Rose- 
wood everywhere, and marble-carved mantels, pure 
white; carpets the softest, of colors the most ex- 
quisitely blended and shaded, woven upon patterns 
wrought from the most cunning brain; and light 
shaded and tinged by window-drapery of gorgeous 
Oriental dyes, admitted just so as to give the as- 
pect of luxury with a suggestion of romance and 
repose, and to bring out the coloring of the paint- 
ings upon the wall, every one of them by a great 
master. 

A beautiful woman, in early maturity — a wife and 
mother — is the animating spirit of this scene of en- 
chantment; and bright-eyed, soft-haired children 
flitting about, too happy to contain themselves, 
complete the picture. Mother and children under 
the roof, at the flresicle, sheltered, supplied with 
plenty, surrounded by beauty, themselves most beau- 
tiful of all — is there aught on earth to equal it? 

But this "home, this abundance, this luxury, this 
thoughtful arrangement, this opulence, suggest an- 
other — the husband, the father. This is the result 
of his toil. What tension of brain and muscle there 
must have been! For twenty years the fruit of all 
his enterprises has been coming into this expression. 
Long before he made avowal of his love, in timid 



Christ and the Church. 391 

hope, he labored, thinking only of her. Ever since 
her presence has hallowed his home all the wealth 
of his hand has been lavished upon the scene of 
which she is the central figure, as the wealth of his 
soul has been lavished upon her heart. !N"o toil that 
would enhance the luxury of her home has been 
thought a hardship. The rigors of winter have 
been encountered as if they were nothing, for her 
sake; tropical heats have brought no pause; fierce 
tempests have been despised; the perils of long 
travel upon commercial enterprises have been en- 
countered; even long, intolerable absences from her 
have been accepted — only for her sake. She has 
been the animating motive of all his most arduous 
enterprises. He would keep her in a condition such 
as would gratify her tastes and satisfy his own love 
— a condition worthy of her ! She should be shielded 
so far as mortal arm could shield her. He will pre- 
serve her love, cost what it may. She is the mother 
of his children, and she shall be happy if any man 
can make any woman happy. It has been the joy 
of his life to create this exquisite home, because it 
was for her and for her children. Pain, and fatigue, 
and danger, have been welcome in this labor of love. 
The thought of his chaste wife at home in the midst 
of her children has ever been both the spur and the 
recompense of his endeavor. Recompense enough! 
The evenings, the mornings, the Sundays that he 
has been himself in the midst of the scene, have 
been marked as the white days of his calendar. 
Their very memory is happiness ! His every thought 
is purity, and all his love is given to her. 



392 Christ and the Church. 

He is off — far away — beyond the ocean — still un- 
der heavy tension of unflagging effort, for her. 
Beautiful women come and go about him; he 
scarcely thinks to admire them, for she, the su- 
preme magnet of his heart, monopolizes him; his 
fidelity to her is as transparent as flint-glass and as 
pure as a diamond. Month after month, in the op- 
posite hemisphere, he presses his successful traffic, 
and the fruit of it goes to that one 'place, his home. 
Still costlier luxuries shall constitute his home 
more worthy of her, the only woman that he ever 
loved — the beautiful, loving, chaste wife of his 
home and of his heart. ]N"oble man! surely he 
would command the homage and fidelity of any 
woman in the world. This unselfish devotion, this 
transparent purity, must win an equal devotion. 
This man's wife ! how can she be otherwise than 
noble and true? How impossible it is that she 
should trifle with his honor! 

See her walking in these beautiful grounds, beau- 
tified by him; see her in the luxurious home pro- 
vided by his labor. Every thing in her sight is 
eloquent of his thoughtful care, his single-hearted 
love. He is off toiling for her now, and she is here 
at her ease, with naught to do but to enjoy the fruit 
of his labor, to care for his children, and to long for 
his return. See her in his house, at her ease, en- 
joying his wealth; see her reclining on cushions 
which he sent home to her from Turkish factories 
only this very month. His children arc in innocent, 
unconscious sleep in the next apartment. See her 
there, receiving the impure caresses of a stranger! 



Christ and the Church. 393 

Think of it! think of it! Is it not monstrous? 
is it not inconceivable? Baseness is a feeble word 
for such a crime. To dishonor Mm under his own 
roof, with the breathing of the sleeping innocents — 
his children and hers — in her ear, it is unnatural ! 

When he comes home will not the calm purity 
of his loving eye smite her dead? Will not the 
thought of his dishonored love drive her mad, even 
in his absence, when the children meet her? Or is 
she so base and brazen that she can still eat his 
bread and live? 

Tell me, you who have been redeemed by the 
blood of the Son of God; you for whom he has 
made the earth so beautiful; you for whom his har- 
vests are gathered in in their season; you for whom 
he gave himself, to whom he has sent the Holy 
Spirit; you for whom he carries on the affairs of 
his mediatorial government; you to whom he de- 
votes the infinite resources of his power and love — 
tell me, are your hearts true to him? Or have you 
not, in the midst of the earth which he has fitted 
up for you, overwhelming you with his bounties, 
the rich gifts of his providence, and under the sky 
in which he has hung innumerable love-lights for 
you, tokening to you his tender care, given your 
heart to gross carnal loves, forgetting and dishon- 
oring him? Have you not taken the disgusting 
stranger to your heart? are you not earthly, sen- 
sual? are you not lovers of money? are you not 
lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God? have 
you not defiled the home he has builded for you? 

How often has the Church debased herself, even 
17* 



394 Christ and the Church. 

in the midst of her children! She has averted her 
face from her Lord and has smiled on rival claim- 
ants of her heart, and that with his bridal-gifts in 
her hand, with his ring upon her finger; named by 
his name, she has despised his poor; from his very 
table she has sauntered into the theater and the ball- 
room ; with the wine of his sacrament fresh upon 
her lips, she has uttered falsehood in the market, for 
gain; she has become deaf to the charms of his 
voice in hot, unscrupulous chase of empty, corrupt- 
ing honors. O she has corrupted herself with many 
lovers, and when he comes — the Lord whom she has 
so basely dishonored — how must she shrink from 
the rebuke of his pure face! how will the light of 
his eye pierce her heart ! 

How sweet and fragrant is the atmosphere of that 
home which is kept in the odor of purity by a chaste 
wife ! No matter how protracted the absence of her 
husband, her instinctive purity preserves inviolate 
the sanctities of the place; the modest dignity of 
her spirit removes her utterly from temptation; no 
lustful dalliance dares attempt her hand; evil avoids 
the threshold; even in his absence her husband's 
name is another word for honor; no presence is al- 
lowed, no word is spoken, that would shame him if 
he were there. 

Yes! and Christ has a Church on earth — a spir- 
itual household — where the honor of his name is 
kept inviolate. His word, now that he is gone up 
on high, has all the authority of his presence; if he 
were here in bodily presence, he would not be more 
loved and honored; when he does come the second 



Christ and the Church. 395 

time, with what rapture will she fly to meet him, and 
find her heaven in his presence ! He, too, in her shall 
find his own eternal joy; hy his blood and labor he 
has constituted and preserved her a glorious Church, 
not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; she 
is holy and without blemish; he presents her to him- 
self, "faultless before the presence of his glory," in 
the beauties of holiness. This is the beauty that feasts 
his eye, that satisfies his heart. The Bride stands 
before him; he has her heart inviolate in celestial 
purity; he looks upon her face, suffused with the 
blushes of an untainted love; she is his — created out 
of his side; she is his in all the multitude of her 
saved children, holy and without blemish, and he is 
satisfied; he gave himself for this, and is satisfied; 
she meets the infinite demand of his love, and his 
great labor has its full reward. 

I have seen a young man, the noble son of a noble 
sire, when he brought his bride home to his father's 
house ; he had chosen her from among all the women 
in the world ; he loved her with all the fullness of an 
uncoiTupted heart; it was the mighty outgoing of a 
fresh, strong nature. She was fit to be the wife of 
such a man; she was as complete in her womanli- 
ness as he in his manliness; and now, at this su- 
preme moment of her destiny, her whole nature, 
soul and body, had been fused into sensibility; her 
face was lit with the chaste warmth of bridal con- 
sciousness; her light, airy, elegant form was em- 
bodied gracefulness and poetry in every attitude, in 
every slightest movement; when she leaned upon 
her husband's arm, and looked up into his face, she 



396 Christ and the Church. 

was the picture of rapture in repose. The son had 
the full approbation of his father; of all the women 
he knew, he would have chosen this one to be the 
wife of his first-born. 

What a day was that when her husband brought 
her home to his father's house! what preparations 
had been made to receive her! The house had been 
renovated, from top to bottom; the premises had 
been in uproar for a week, making ready for the 
event; if it had been a queen that was coming, in- 
terest could not have been more intense ; every thing 
on the place had turned to heart; every nerve tin- 
gled a delicious welcome to the new-comer. 

The day arrives, at last, and the hour; the bride- 
groom has come, with his bride; the welcome would 
be clamorous, if it were not so deep; the feeling of 
the younger children and of the servants has a touch 
of awe in it. 

The father receives her with quiet dignity, but the 
respectful kiss is the seal of purest affection, and the 
deep bass of his voice, slightly tremulous, gives her 
a daughter's quiet consciousness in his presence at 
once; she looks into his face, and sees the glow of 
his countenance; from that hour her heart is at 
peace under his roof. The younger children come 
hesitatingly about her chair, and timidly finger the 
fringes of her garments; if she looks at one with a 
smile, he can scarcely contain himself for an hour; 
a kiss upon the forehead is enough to put him into 
ecstasies for a week. With what sensitive eagerness 
they speak to her, in tremulous undcr-tone, calling 
her sister! The word never had such a meaning be- 



Christ and the Church. 397 

fore, nor the syllables of it so sweet a sound; it is 
another word for tenderness and beauty. The very 
servants move about with unwonted activity and in- 
terest — for there were black domestics in the house, 
born and bred on the place; they have caught the 
infection of love, and interest, and joy; every thing 
the young mistress touches seems almost sacred to 
them; they sweep the carpet with greater care, be- 
cause she is to tread upon it; the very stair-way 
seems different after she has tripped up and down it 
once; every thing seems different; a new expression 
is in every thing; the light is purer, and as the sun- 
shine from the window lies upon the carpet you 
might imagine it to be the bright shadow of God's 
peace, that came into the house with the bride. 

After night-fall she walks to and fro over the 
greensward, under the shade-trees and in the light 
of the full moon, leaning on the arm of her husband, 
and talking with him in low tones; the very moon 
looks purer, as it floats above her head, and the grass 
more brightly green after her robe has swept over it. 
There was never a joy so great or so diffusive in that 
house. 

The day comes when the heavenly Bridegroom will 
bring his Bride home to the Father's house; he is there 
now, making ready — preparing a place for her before 
he comes again to bring her away. That will be the 
day of days, even in heaven; it has been looked to 
from the dawn of creation; angel-ministers have 
been engaged in preparation; God the Father looks 
upon the Bride with approval ; the last earth-stain 
has been washed from her garments by the blood of 



398 Christ and the Church. 

the Lamb; a vast concourse of the sons of immor- 
tality is coming to join the procession ; the frame of 
nature throughout the universe is to be taken down 
and built anew, in more perfect forms of beauty and 
grandeur, in honor of the event; " the Lord himself 
shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the 
voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God." 
Then shall he return with the risen and glorified 
Church; the gates of the celestial city are in sight; 
they are thrown open; the family of heaven are 
grouped and waiting; a new feeling of tenderness 
and interest deepens the sensibilities even of that 
world; the Church, redeemed w^th blood, is coming 
home with her Kedeemer, radiant with his glory; 
nearest his person, and most fully in his likeness of 
all created things, she is the center of interest and 
in the place of honor; she was created from his 
side, and the glory of his nature is upon her brow; 
she enters, leaning on her Beloved; angels, quiver- 
ing with delight, and eager to do her service, hover 
about her way; they will bear messages to and fro, 
swift as lightning; they will sweep the invisible dust 
of the gold pavement with their wings, before her 
white -shod feet shall pass; the celestial glory is 
heightened by the glow of her countenance, as she 
looks into the face of her Lord; her passing form is 
mirrored in the sea of glass; the princes and po- 
tentates of glory await her coming with their hom- 
age; she passes into the palace of the Great King, 
still leaning on her Lord; the Father smiles; she is 
at home; the Son takes the throne with the Father; 
the Bride is with him, throned at his side; all the 



Christ and the Church. 399 

harps and voices of heaven break forth with a new 
song, and the music deepens, swells, and vibrates, 
till the very thrones tremble to the melody; the 
crown is brought forth — the crown of life; the tri- 
umphant hand of her Lord places it on her head ; it 
is gemmed with diamonds, cut at ten thousand an- 
gles, every naming facet flashing back and aug- 
menting the celestial radiance; at the right hand of 
her King she sits, regnant in beauty, with the port 
of an empress and the heart of a bride, to reign 
with him forever; in the Father's house, like a child 
at home, she shall go in and out, diffusing beauty, 
and love, and blessedness. 

The purposes of God are consummated: created 
being has reached its highest expression through 
the agony of the God-man ; the Creator sees himself 
mirrored in the creature, and the glorified Church 
is the crown and joy of heaven. Even the angels 
come to a higher destiny in the household of the 
Bride; they find a deeper joy in her transcendent 
destiny, and through her find places nearer to the 
Lord. 

Shall we be there, blood-washed, to sin no more? 
we, so weak, so polluted, now? 

Yes, even we may have hope ! But only the power 
of God can keep us against that day. 



400 In Mcmorium. 



J it |pt fm or tarn. 



SERMON XII* 

"Let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning; 
and ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their lord, when 
he will return from the' wedding; that, when he cometh and 
knocketh, they may open unto him immediately. Blessed 
are those servants, whom the lord when he cc.meth shall find 
watching: verily, 1 say unto you, that he shall gird himself, 
and make them sit down to meat, and will come forth and 
serve them. And if he shall come in the second watch, or 
come in the third watch, and find them so, blessed are those 
servants." Luke xii. 35-38. 

ALL character is based on personal relations; 
right and wrong are not found in any abstract 
conception. Obligation supposes two parties, to one 
of which something is due from the other. The 
very idea of justice, for instance, contemplates par- 
ties in vital relation to each other. There can be no 

*This Sermon was delivered, in substance, in Selma, Ala., 
Dec. 27, 1874, in memory of the Hon. William M. Byrd, de- 
ceased. The printed Sermon, however, differs a good deal 
from the original, which was extemporaneous. The difference 
is not in the analysis, for that remains unchanged; but my 
own participation in the bereavement was such as to disqualify 



In Memoriam. 401 

such thing as justice without a personal object, as 
well as a personal subject — one to whom justice is to 
be rendered, as well as one from whom it is due. 
The obligation of charity requires that there be some 
person in need of aid in actual relations with one 
who has it in his power to bestow the needed bene- 
faction. You may possibly think of truth in an 
abstract view; but the obligation of truth-speaking 
brings two persons into sight, in such relation as to 
be able to communicate with each other. Only, 
therefore, where intelligent beings are in community 
— in actual relations with each other — can obliga- 
tions exist, or character be formed. 

In the light of Christian truth we discover that 
there is one great Personage to whom we are so re- 
lated as that all character is determined by our rela- 
tions to him. This exalted Person is the Lord Jesus 
Christ. His claim upon us is so comprehensive as 
to include all the possible forms of obligation that 
we may be under. 

St. Paul characterizes himself as a servant — liter- 
ally, slave. — of Jesus Christ. If a man is a Christian, 
in any proper sense of the word, the one all-inclusive 
fact of his character is given in that statement; to 
say he is a servant of Jesus Christ is to give, in the 
sum, every thing that determines his moral status. 

me, in large measure, for the duties of the hour. I will add 
that I have rarely known a man to whom I was so deeply at- 
tached as I was to Judge Btrd. I count it one of the privileges 
of my life that I enjoyed for two weeks, at different times, the 
hospitalities of his House. His conversation profited me in 
my personal experience; I felt nearer to God after I had been 
with him. 



402 In Manor iam. 

The text brings this fact to our attention in a 
most impressive manner, and at the same time 
awakens a most lively sense of the immediate per- 
sonal attitude we stand in in the presence of our 
Lord. Let us proceed to formulate the truths in- 
volved. 

I. To be a servant of Christ is to meet, in its com- 
pleteness, every obligation of life. 

No virtue can fall outside of this postulate; it 
covers the whole area of duty and goodness. The 
character that is the product of this dictum is round 
and full; nothing is left out that goes to make up 
the ideal virtue. 

1. His demand upon us, formally asserted, is su- 
preme and exclusive. He admits no participant, 
tolerates no rival; he presents himself as absolute 
Lord of our life, dominating us with an authority 
that controls all other relations and subordinates 
all other claims; he concentrates duty in the one 
fact of obligation to himself; all the most sacred 
obligations and the tenderest ties of life are put in 
complete abeyance; all bonds, filial, fraternal, conju- 
gal, sink before the absolute supremacy of his name; 
no competition of father, mother, brother, sister, 
husband, wife, can be allowed; in comparison of 
the love he claims for himself all the affection of 
these subordinate relations must be as hatred; the 
absoluteness of his demand rises above the most 
touching exigences of domestic feeling. Disciple- 
ship must recognize the present, peremptory sov- 
ereignty of the Lord. The question of discipleship 
may not be postponed for a moment, and will suffer 



In Memoriam. 403 

no hesitating, half answer in a brief interval of leave- 
taking. "Let me first go bid them farewell which 
are at home at my house." "No man having put 
his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for 
the kingdom of God." No sensibilities, however 
pure or sacred, can be put "first" when the ques- 
tion of following him is up. So high, so engrossing 
is his right that all other rights, when they come 
into competition with him, are wrong; they may be 
never so pure and commanding in their proper as- 
sertion, but when they set up a claim as against him 
they become intolerable wickedness. Not even the 
hallowed rites of sepulture can be allowed so much 
as a momentary precedence of him. " Suffer me first 
to go and bury my father." " Follow me ; and let the 
dead bury their dead." 

Not only the fact of absolute supremacy, but the 
peremptory tone of its assertion, strikes us in these 
passages. They sound harsh, and from any other 
lips than his they would be revolting; but has not 
he the right? The shock which we experience from 
these startling words is necessary to arouse us from 
a stupid half-consciousness of the right of Lordship 
which the Son of God has over us. He must assert 
himself between husband and wife, even at the mo- 
ment of supremest sensibility, and command us 
even from leave-taking ; he must stand between 
father and son at the grave's mouth, a Master and 
Lord who has prerogative even there to summon 
the broken heart away from the most sacred of hu- 
man duties. Oar dead are under the roof; with 
crushed hearts we are preparing to follow them to 



404 In Memonam. 

the grave and weep there; an inviolable silence 
honors the grief which all humanity has consecrated 
by an awe that stands aloof and gives up the time 
and place to sorrow; but the hush is violated by 
the sudden crash of a stern voice: " Come away — 
let the dead bury their dead — follow me." What 
sacrilege is this? My outraged heart must scorn a 
call like that at such a time. But no; I look up — 
His eye is upon me. " My Lord and my God," is it 
thou? Thou hast the right. Take me ! take me! 
even though it be from the side of my unburied 
dead. I yield myself in unquestioning love and 
faith to thee. 

2. This supreme and exclusive demand rests on the 
nature and dignity of him who makes it. 

(1) He is the Son of man. 

As a man his relation to humanity is singular. 
He is the "First-born among many brethren," our 
"Elder Brother." First-born, not in time, but in 
dignity — with the prerogatives of elder brotherhood, 
not by anterior birth, but by a higher nature. He 
alone of all the sons of men was born of a virgin, 
owing his being to the immediate creative act of 
God. Thus, by the very history of his birth, he 
has at once a common relation and a relation of 
superiority to all men. He is the Son, not of a 
man — any particular man — but of humanity; he 
came into being for the sake of humanity; he was 
divinely provided in the midst of the ages to meet 
the want and confront the enemies of our race. 
"With the Fatherhood of God in his human as in 
his divine nature, he is removed so far from the 



In Memoriam. 405 

category of common genealogies and local relation- 
ships that he stands at the head and front in the 
ranks of men, and is the highest born and common 
Brother of us all. His birth is not from any single 
man, as the product of a procreative instinct, but is 
a divine response to the universal need of humanity 
for a new creation. 

The human nature of the Lord is the product of 
the divine love toward man, moving toward a new 
creation and a new life. In him, first, the new life 
existed, and from him it flows out to the world. 
"In him was life, and the life was the light of 
men." "I am the vine, ye are the branches." "If 
a man abide not in me he is cast forth as a branch, 
and is withered." " This is the true God, and eternal 
life." "He that believeth hath life," and this "life 
is in his Son." Toward man, dead in sin, the Infi- 
nite Love yearned, and the issue of the holy impulse 
was the Seed of the woman, the Son of Mary, the 
man Christ Jesus, in whom was life, not for himself 
alone, but for all. In him humanity w T as impreg- 
nated, and the conditions were provided in which, 
through vital relations with him, all men might be- 
come recipient of the new divine vitality. So he is 
the product of the Divine Love, through the occasion 
of the human need, and is the "Son of man" — the 
Son of humanity. 

Christ sustains a representative relation to man- 
kind. 

However strange it may seem to us that the vital 
interests of one person should be intrusted to an- 
other as a representative, we know not by our own 



406 In Memori 



utm. 



observation that such is the fact. The civil magis- 
trate is the representative of the whole community, 
and whether the good citizen is to be secure in life 
and property depends on his faithful administration 
of the functions of his office. A rash or an ambi- 
tious ruler may involve a whole nation in the miseries 
and demoralization of war; a vicious and trifling 
father entails a low character and miserable condi- 
tion upon his children. How much more may we 
believe that the first man was in a relation to his 
posterity which was, in all respects, vitally repre- 
sentative! 

But he, our first representative, involved us in 
untold calamities, both moral and physical. The 
Infinite Beneficence provided the Son of Mary — God 
his Father — to be a second Representative, that he 
might be the Restorer and Redeemer, that he might 
counterwork the evils entailed upon us by the first 
man. So he is the Son of man. 

(2) Re is the Son of God. " The Word was made 
flesh, and dwelt among us (and we beheld his glory, 
the glory as of the only-begotten of the Father), full 
of grace and truth." "In him dwelleth all the full- 
ness of the Godhead bodily." The person of Christ 
is truly divine; he is "God manifest in the flesh." 
His human nature is the medium of his manifesta- 
tion and the basis of a special relationship to man; 
through it he is in the relation to man not of Creator 
only, but of Redeemer, also; it is the point at which 
God connects himself with the fallen — the lowly 
form in which he seeks the lost. !N"ot that God 
limits himself to the conditions of a human person- 



In Memoriam. 407 

ality; but he does connect himself vitally with this 
man, so that the human nature in him becomes the 
expression of the divine nature to us. There is a 
vital connection of the human with the divine; the 
Divine Being takes this human life into, immediate 
personal union with himself, so that while the hu- 
man nature remains intact and complete the Person 
is divine. The Son of Mary is the Son of God, and 
the incomprehensible Unit resultant from this union 
is a divine Person — is God. All the power, and 
majesty, and glory of Godhead concenter in him; 
all the sovereignty and right of God are in him; he 
is "God over all, blessed for evermore." 

(3) His relation to man appears in these two facts, 
that he is the Son of man, the Son of God. He is not 
only the representative Son of man, having a com- 
mon relation to all men, with a certain superiority 
and elder brotherhood on the human side of his 
being, but has, also, with that, all divine authority 
and prerogative; the eternal sovereignty is in him. 

In any just conception of his human life, he is the 
highest amon^ men; all the worth and dignity of 
our nature appear in him; he stands at the head of 
our race ; humanity culminates in him. Even in this 
view, the startling demand he makes upon us might 
be justified; but in his highest exaltation, declared 
to be the Son of God, with power, he gathers into 
himself and stands for not only all human relations 
and rights, but all divine prerogatives and claims. 
ISTot only, then, does he represent all relations in 
himself, but he is the Author of all, and has infinite 
right over all. Then, those words of majesty be- 



408 In Memoriam. 

come his lips when he makes himself sole Lord of 
the heart, so that houses and lands are nothing to be 
surrendered for him, and even closest blood-ties — 
father, mother, brother, sister, child — are to be for- 
saken for him; ay, even our own life is to be abjured. 

3. This supreme and exclusive demand of Christ upon 
men does not interfere with, but assures and enhances, all 
social obligations. 

At first blush, it might seem that when our Lord 
asserts that the ties of domestic life are as nothing in 
the presence of his claim upon the heart, and even 
to be held in repugnance when considered as in com- 
petition with him, they are held as of little value. 
Nay, verily. These relations have a value and sa- 
credness in the Christian code far above that given 
in any other system of morals. The law of filial 
piety — " Honor thy father and thy mother " — has its 
clearest interpretation and highest import in the 
teachings of Christ and his apostles. This relation 
was rescued by our Lord from the lax traditions of 
the elders, which taught that by a "gift" a man 
might be free from his father and mother; he set 
the perfect example of filial duty, being "subject to 
his parents," and yielding the most tender filial re- 
gard to his mother, even when he was in the agony 
of death on the cross. Obedience to parents, in all 
things, was rigidly enjoined by St. Paul. The abso- 
lute sanctity and inviolable obligation of marriage- 
vows was brought into its fullest expression by 
Christ and the Xew Testament writers; he allows 
divorce but for one cause — the absolute breach of 
marital fidelity by the offending party. 



In Memoriam. 409 

No; the Master does not make little of the sacred 
claims of domestic love ; he sets them in the strongest 
light, raises them to their highest expression, and 
gives them a peculiar sanctity. The evil and wicked- 
ness of any violation of such obligations he puts in 
the strongest terms; but high and sacred as they 
are, he uses them as a background on which to pro- 
ject his own higher and divine claim. How great is 
he before whom the claims of a father, or the sacred 
duties of a child, are as nothing when compared 
with the obligations clue to him! If the dreadful 
sin of violating domestic obligations is as nothing 
compared to sin against him, how high above all 
expression must be his most hallowed name! 

But while he shows his own infinite exaltation in 
this comparison and contrast of all Unite claims with 
his infinite claim, he does, also, give to these lower 
obligations the sanction of his sovereign will, so that 
to offend against filial, fraternal, or conjugal obliga- 
tions is to offend against his divine will. He thus, in 
fact, gives to these human relations the dignity of a 
divine obligation. If, indeed, it shall ever occur, in 
any case, that a conflict shall arise between any do- 
mestic obligation and fealty to him, every thing must 
go down before him; but in actual life such cases 
are exceptional and extremely rare, so that in real 
life duty to men, in all the varied relations of life, is 
duty to him. By the terms of the moral law he has 
put the guard of his own authority around all hu- 
man virtues and interests; to trespass against men, 
therefore, is to trespass against God. 

Then, again, as the Son of man he concentrates 
18 



410 In Memoriam. 

all human relations and interests in himself; he 
stands for all, and is the Guardian of all; he repre- 
sents humanity; he lives not for himself, but for 
humanity; his human nature makes every thing 
that belongs to humanity sacred. No wonder, then, 
that all the dear relations of life are invested with a 
greater tenderness and sweetness where the Chris- 
tian civilization prevails than in any other regions 
of the earth! no wonder that the home and hearth- 
stone are more sacred here than elsewhere! no won- 
der that woman is more elevated and refined, and the 
marital bond more sacred ! All men are his by the 
relation of a common humanity, and by the tender- 
ness of redeeming love ; wrong done to them is wrong 
done to him. Especially are those who believe in him 
related to him in vital consciousness, so that what is 
done to the very least of them is done to him. 

"We see, then, that Christ represents all divine 
authority and all human claims. To serve him, 
therefore, covers the whole ground of obligation, 
and fills the whole sphere of virtue; to do his will 
is to fulfill all righteousness; he is "God manifest 
in the flesh," and so. stands before us for every thing 
divine and human. We have nothing to do but to 
learn his will and do the work he gives us. His will 
is the law of God; his purpose represents the highest 
virtue of humanity. 

To be a servant of Jesus Christ is to be all that 
God proposes for us, and to respond, as well, to all 
the just demands of humanity upon us. 

4. In serving Christ there must be distinct conscious- 
ness of a personal relation. 



In Memoriam, 411 

Service of Christ is not found in doing this or that, 
because, in a general way, we see it to be right. All 
right and wrong are determined by personal relations, 
as we have seen ; and Christ is in relations to us that 
comprise all and control all. We must recognize the 
Master; we must hear his voice and submit to his 
will. There must be the sense of absolute obedience, 
of willing, hearty subjection. We must have the 
spirit of the servant. This is realized, 

(1) In a deep sense of reverence. Indeed, there must 
be the reverence that amounts to fear. The servant 
is in awe of the master; it may not be a painful, 
oppressive fear, and in the case of the good servant 
will not be; but the authority, and majesty, and 
power of the master, supporting all his just exac- 
tions, cannot but produce a salutary awe in the 
right-minded servant. Toward our ascended Lord, 
to. whom devils are subject, whom angels worship, 
to whom judgment is committed, an irreverent, 
flippant attitude is impossible on the part of any 
true believer; he knows our hearts, and the awards 
of eternity are in his hands. The angels are in awe 
before him. It well becomes us, men, to tremble be- 
fore the presence of the King of kings. 

(2) In a true-hearted servant there is also love for the 
master, as well as reverence. There is often peculiar 
warmth and tenderness in the love of a faithful 
servant; the sensibility is all the deeper for the rea- 
son that it is the outgrowth of reverence. The most 
whole-hearted and consuming love coexists with 
awe, and even fear. To the Christian his Master is 
"chiefest among ten thousand," and "altogether 



412 In Memoriam. 

lovely;" lie is " fairer than the sons of men," and his 
"lips overflow with grace;" "we love him, "because 
he first loved us." To be admitted to the service of 
such a Master is itself overwhelming cause of grati- 
tude; to be taken to a place in his house, and near 
his person, is sufficient to create the holiest enthu- 
siasm of adoring love. 

(3) The personal servant is jealous of the honor of 
his master. Many very beautiful instances of this 
have occurred, in former times, in the Southern 
States of our Union. He takes the greatest delight 
in the exalted character and honorable fame of the 
man whom he serves, and any reproach of his master 
is an affront to himself. How dear to the Christian 
is the honor of his Lord! He is fairly aglow with 
the thought that his name is above every name; he 
is never in an employment so congenial to him as 
when his voice, in unison with the multitudes of 
worshipers on earth and the hosts of heaven, raises 
ascriptions and shouts of praise to him who sitteth 
upon the throne, and unto the Lamb. 

(4) The faithful servant is intent upon his master's 
interest. The servant of Christ, if he has the spirit 
of his calling, is in earnest labors, according to his 
opportunity and power, for the increase of the spir- 
itual treasure of his Lord; he can never feel that'-he 
has done enough; he longs for a thousand tongues 
and hands, that he may work to some purpose in the 
half-supplied fields that are white to the harvest. 

(5) Fidelity and obedience are chief virtues of the 
servant. Fidelity that can be corrupted by no temp- 
tation—what a noble quality! obedience that never 



In Memoriam. 413 

flags, is never inattentive, never indifferent — what 
an inestimable trait! Both must come of a deep 
sense of the personal and just claim of the master. 
To the Christian — the truly devoted servant of 
Christ — the Master is habitually present in thought, 
and all his life is adjusted to that fact. 

(6) The spirit of the servant reaches its perfection in 
a constant desire to have, and a constant effort to secure, 
the approbation of the master, whether in his presence or 
absence. The Christian's happiness is consummated 
in the commendation of the Master; to hear that 
voice say, "Well done, good and faithful servant," 
will be more than heaven to him; night and day he 
labors with his eye on that reward. 

II. The approved servant is he who is always 

WATCHING, AND READY, AT A MOMENT, TO RECEIVE HIS 
ABSENT MASTER. 

1. Our Lord, in his bodily presence, is absent from 
his people now, having gone up on high; he is not 
with us as he was with the disciples in the clays of 
his flesh; he is gone away. No doubt, he is present 
in the Spirit, but he is present to our faith only, not 
to our sight. But, 

2. He will come again. In his glorified human 
presence he will come suddenly, and every eye shall 
see him. But he will come, also, in a very important 
sense, to every individual, at the moment of death. 

3. The time of his coming is not made known to 
his people; "of that day and hour knoweth no 
man;''' and this is true alike of his coming at the 
last day and of his coming to us, individually, at 
the hour of death. In the most impressive illustra- 



414 In 31emoriam. 

tion of the text, the lord, absent at the wedding, 
might return at any time, in the second or third 
watch. This would include a period of six hours, 
running from nine o'clock to three, in the night. 
At any moment within that time he might come; at 
any moment now he may come — to you, to me. 

4. Happy is that servant who is ready at the mo- 
ment. 

The admonition of the text is, in the highest de- 
gree, striking and effective. The scene is laid in the 
dwelling of an Oriental lord; you are to imagine a 
magnificent mansion; it is night, in the dead hours; 
the lord is absent at a wedding; it may be long hours 
before he will return; his feet maybe at the thresh- 
old even now; the domestic servants are within, 
waiting, to open the door when he knocks, and to 
render such service about his person as he may re- 
quire, after he enters. In this attitude of affairs 
several important suggestions offer themselves: 

(1) After the fatigues of the day this late watch- 
ing must be painful. 

(2) The temptation to relax, to sleep, or to throw 
off drowsiness in revelry, or to fall into ill-nature 
and strife among themselves, would be very strong. 

(3) The master's absence and delay, and the un- 
certainty of the time of his return, would give op- 
portunity to the temptation. Such a situation is a 
severe test of the qualities of a servant. 

But the servants of this passage were men equal 
to the test; they were ready — ready at any time, 
ready all the time. 

(1) "Their loins were girded about." This is a 



In Memoriam. 415 

very striking metaphor; it is used by the Apostle 
St. Paul, but with a different meaning; he speaks of 
the loins being "girded about with truth," as a part 
of "the whole armor of God," necessary for the 
Christian soldier. He has in view the contests which 
are to test the strength, as well as the courage, of the 
follower of Christ; his fall powers will be called 
into play. In hand-to-hand contests the ancient 
soldier had often need for all the power of muscle 
that was in him, and more. Now, the loin is a sort 
of fulcrum for all the muscular leverage of the body. 
When any sudden weight is thrown against a man, if 
the loins yield he is overborne. To give firmness to 
this important part, both the soldier and the athlete 
fastened a broad, stout belt tightly about it; this 
was a support, and added greatly to the power of 
resistance; the muscular strain upon the body, ter- 
minating upon the loins, would rest on the band, 
and greatly augment the strength of the man. 

This use of the metaphor is very suggestive. As 
the loins constitute a sort of fulcrum for the muscu- 
lar leverage of the body, so that the whole strength 
of the man can never be greater than rests upon 
that support, so the support of all moral character 
is truth. The man who is girded firmly about with 
truth need fear no antagonist. "What moral force 
conscious truth gives a man! what prowess in all 
contests! 

But in the text the Christian is regarded not as a 
soldier, but as a servant; and the metaphor of the 
girded loins here suggests not the support of 
strength for the contest, but a state of actual, com- 



416 In Memoriam. 

plete readiness for service. The flowing robe of the 
Oriental servant required to be folded and fastened 
up by a girdle, so that the limbs should be unem- 
barrassed and ready for active movement. The loins 
already girded shows a state of actual and complete 
preparation for duty, upon the sudden coming of 
the lord, so that not a moment should be lost in 
personal adjustment, and that instant and full atten- 
tion should be given to the demands of the master. 

(2) Their lights were burning. Not only were 
the servants in personal readiness, with girded loins, 
but the house was in complete order; the lights 
were burning; a lighted house and alert servants 
awaited the lord. 

(3) They waited for their lord. No temptation to 
sleep, nor to any other indulgence that might be- 
guile them from duty, was indulged for a moment 
by these men; they were true servants. 

(4) They were ready, when the lord came — ready, 
whenever he might come and knock — to "open 
unto him immediately." 

(5) How the master was honored by such service! 
His will is regarded; his person is revered; his ap- 
probation is coveted. 

Let the servant of Christ behold his model in this! 
He may be tempted to spiritual sluggishness, but let 
him never sleep ; they that sleep sleep in the night. 
He may be tempted by his appetites; but they that 
be drunken are drunken in the night. But we are 
of the day, and not of darkness. Let our loins be 
girded! let us be on the alert! and, to resume fully 
the metaphor of the text, let our lights be burning! 



In Memoriam. 417 

let us keep both our lives and hearts so that we may 
not be in consternation when the Lord shall come! 

III. The approved servant shall have a rich re- 
ward. 

The reward of a devoted and affectionate servant 
is not simply a just compensation of his labor; it is 
something more, and much better, than that; there 
is much of heart in it; there is reciprocation of con- 
fidence and of personal regard between master and 
man, which has a value far above all commercial 
standards; it is of a class of things that cannot be 
degraded to the level of mercenary interest; it is 
the enrichment of the heart. The benediction, 
"Blessed are those servants," is no mere assurance 
of the prompt and full payment of liberal wages ; 
it is in a different and altogether higher order of 
things-. 

1. Such servants have a hold npon the master 
which assures a generous provision for their wants ; 
he will "make them sit down to meat;" they are 
not reduced to subsist upon meager wages and a 
fixed dole of rations, which may not be sufficient in 
emergencies and in sickness — far from it ; they have 
a command of their lord through his affections, 
which will secure them all they need from the rich 
resources of his estate. 

2. The servant so fully approved shall have great 
honor; he may expect, on occasion, to have a place 
even at his master's table; he shall be distinguished 
by notable marks of regard; his very name shall be 
spoken with respect by his lord, and the fame of his 
fidelity and devotion shall go abroad like a perfume. 

IS* 



418 In Memoriam. 

3. The servant that has established himself on 
such a footing with his master shall himself be 
served by his master's hand. "He shall gird him- 
self, and make them to sit down to meat, and will 
come forth and serve them." Verily, this servant 
has nothing to fear while his master lives; he has, so 
to say, a lien upon the estate, and a subtle command 
of the master. Gratified by the prompt and tireless 
fidelity of his devoted servant, the lord will not 
hesitate to gird himself and serve the servant, so 
far as his needs may require. Many a faithful slave 
in Alabama has had such care and tendance, in time 
of sickness and exigency, as he could never have 
commanded as a freeman, by securing the respect 
and affection of a good master. 

Such honor and reward shall the servants of 
Christ receive; it will not be the stint of stipulated 
wages, but a free-handed outgiving from boundless 
resources. "He that overcometh shall inherit all 
things." No pantry nor store-house shall be locked 
against him; he shall be at home in his master's 
house, like a very child under the roof; nothing 
shall please the Master so much as to bestow all that 
the servant may need; not only will he feed him to 
the full, but crown him with honor, also: "If any 
man serve me, him will my Father honor;" he shall 
sit at the Master's table. "I will confess his name 
before my Father, and before his angels." As he has 
overcome and is set down with the Father in his 
throne, so his people that overcome shall sit with him 
in his throne; they shall have preeminent rank, even 
anions: the thrones of heaven ; the Infinite Master 



In Memoriam. 419 

himself shall serve them. "They shall hunger no 
more, neither thirst anymore; neither shall the sun 
light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb which is 
in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall 
lead them unto living fountains of waters; and God 
shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." While 
their Master lives they can never want. Blessed, 
indeed, thrice " blessed, are those servants ! " 

The present is a memorial service. We recall, 
thus publicly, the name of our ascended brother, 
the Hon. William M. Byrd. 

You all knew him more intimately than I; you 
w T ere his neighbors; many of you were members of 
the same Church. You need no testimony of mine 
as to his public virtues or his private worth ; yet it 
is proper that we should linger for awhile upon 
some of the facts connected with his life, and upon 
some of the most striking traits of his character. 

I need scarcely say that Judge Byrd was a man 
preeminent in intellectual endowments, and of high 
attainments in the legal profession. He was recog- 
nized, on all sides, as one of the most gifted citizens 
of Alabama; his reputation, indeed, was not con- 
fined to his own State; his fame was in other States, 
and was, in fact, national. On the Supreme Bench 
of the State, at the close of the war, by the breadth 
of his views, by his legal erudition and acumen, he 
contributed, in that critical and difficult condition 
of aiFairs incident to reconstruction, as much to the 
illustrious character of that august tribunal as any 
incumbent has ever done. 

Not only by his great abilities, but by his judicial 



420 In Memoriam. 

and personal virtues, was he eminently qualified for 
his place in the Supreme Court; he was simply in- 
corruptible. Not only was he inaccessible to mer- 
cenary influences, but he was in such steady poise in 
his sense of justice as to be independent of the more 
subtle but sometimes equally potent beguilements of 
social predilection. On the Bench he had no friends, 
he had no enemies; the balances he held responded to 
no weights but truth and justice. 

He was a patriot. He did all that man could do, 
in his circumstances, to avert the civil war; when 
it came, in its dreadful fury, he was true to his State 
in every emergency; when it was over, his voice 
was for an equitable adjustment on a basis that 
should secure not only a permanent but a cordial 
peace. He loved his country too well to indulge in 
petty animosities; he longed for the return of na- 
tional good- will. 

He stood in the midst of the demoralizations 
which succeeded the war a very incarnation of in- 
tegrity; lucrative positions were no temptation to 
him; the very offer of them, with implied services 
to be performed that his conscience condemned, only 
repelled him and excited his disgust; he even de- 
clined to practice in courts organized in a way to 
offend his sense of right, at a time when his practice 
would have been profitable, and when he needed the 
resources of professional labor. I never knew a 
man — I may say there never was a man — whose 
fealty to his principles was more inviolable. 

In social life he was all you could desire in a 
friend. Stiff as a colossus when he stood on princi- 



In Memoriam. 421 

pie, he was as flexible as a willow in the amenities 
of social life. What a charming companion he was ! 
His flow of conversation was easy, instructive, sug- 
gestive, with great felicity of expression — sometimes 
playful and piquant, and, when he was aroused, 
brilliant. 

But the great characterizing fact of his life — that 
which gave tone and color to it all — was that he was 
a servant of Jesus Christ. 

It becomes us here and now to consider his char- 
acter, especially in this aspect of it. 

He was deeply conscious of his personal relation 
to the Lord. This consciousness was founded in 
faith, and Judge Byrd's faith was no mere specula- 
tion. Christ was no myth to him, but a divine 
Person, related to him in a human form of manifes- 
tation, which was at once the utterance of the divine 
compassion and the assertion of the divine authority. 
He recognized him as the Elder Brother and Divine 
Master — his Master for time and for eternity; his 
inmost soul felt the holy Presence. Such was his 
faith. With such faith, he took Christ to be the 
absolute Lord of his life; he gave himself up; he 
attached himself, in inviolable fealty, to the Master; 
his will was the law; in all things, his pleasure was 
to be consulted. 

He had the deep sense of reverence which enters 
into the true spirit of service. The fear of the Lord 
was before his eyes; it was not a cringing fear, but 
that deeper feeling which is grounded in love — the 
dread, not of punishment, but of offended love. He 
felt all the majesty of Christ, and responded to it 



422 In Mcmoriam. 

with hallowed awe, such as a great and pure heart 
must feel toward him. Our brother was incapable 
of flippancy. The magisterial character of the Son 
of God and his judicial administration, were realized 
to be facts of most solemn import, and, while he 
was not agitated by consciousness of guilt, he was 
in awe of the holy Judge. His own experience of 
the gravity of judicial functions and responsibilities 
may have aided his consciousness in this respect, in 
later life; at any rate, we know that he felt, most 
profoundly, the majesty of him whom he served as 
his proper Master. 

Nor was his service less marked by true-hearted 
love ; and by all the depth of his reverence the depth 
of his love was measured. Where there is a true 
love the power of it is in proportion to the greatness 
of the object. To all that excites love in Christ add 
all that is great, and you have the measure of the 
magnetism by which he attracted the heart of him 
whose memory we cherish to-day; his was the very 
enthusiasm of love. This fact appeared in many 
ways: he delighted to confess Christ before men; he 
took pleasure in his word, and was a devout student 
of it; I have rarely known a man who had a keener 
relish of the gospel narratives; he delighted to wor- 
ship Christ, and to entertain his servants, under his 
own roof; he greatly enjoyed the solemnities of the 
house of God; he was rarely absent — never, if he 
could help it — from the social meetings. Here, in 
Selma, in this house, when only a handful were ha- 
bitually assembled at the weekly prayer-meeting, 
was he not always there? The love of Christ con- 



In Memoviam. 423 

strained him. And wlien in the love-feasts he spoke 
of that name, did he not, my brethren, sometimes 
transport you, as it were, into the very presence of 
the King, as if he saw, indeed, "the King in his 
beauty, and the land that is very far off?" 

If the personal servant is jealous of the honor of 
his master, by this sign, also, was Judge Byrd a 
servant of Jesus Christ; he was sensitive to the re- 
proaches that were laid on him, and rejoiced in all 
the homage that was rendered to his name. No 
less was he devoted to the Master's interest; this he 
promoted by active service in his cause: in the Sun- 
day-school, in various Church-offices, in official rela- 
tion to Church institutions of learning, especially as 
President of the Board of Trustees of the Southern 
University, he served to the full measure of his op- 
portunity. He was honored by a seat in the Gen- 
eral Conference of his Church, in 1870, and, as in 
all lower stations, so here, he appeared in his place 
to work for the Master. He contributed of his 
means freely — perhaps I might say lavishly — to pro- 
mote the enterprises of religion. Truly, I may say, 
he took no such pleasure in any thing earthly as in 
the* increase of the Redeemer's kingdom. 

Though he had a strong icill, yet was he as docile 
before Christ as a little child. He knew the true 
attitude of the servant, and delighted to stand in it. 
The temper of his mind toward the Master was ex- 
pressed in the words, " Speak, Lord, for thy servant 
heareth." 

No servant ever cleaved to a master with greater 
fidelity; no power could separate him from Christ — 



424 In Memo 



nam. 



neither the world, nor life, nor death, nor things 
present, nor things to come: no domestic attach- 
ment could destroy his polarity. Christ was above 
all, infinitely above all; yet not only was he above 
all, but he was in all. He saw in every man a 
brother of the Elder Brother; in the humblest man 
he saw not only a humanity common with himself, 
but represented, also, by the Son of man; especially 
if he were a disciple, he saw one to whom whatso- 
ever was done was done to Christ. The humblest 
people knew they had a friend in Judge Byrd. The 
people of color felt, by a sort of unerring instinct, 
that they could trust him. Though there was no 
thing nor any man that he would not have at once 
forsaken for Christ, if the competition had been set 
up, yet, in fact, and in actual life, his social ties — 
unless there might have been a few exceptions in 
public life — were in the line of his devotion to Christ, 
so that those duties of subordinate relationship had 
upon them the sanction of Christ; and as Christ was 
in them, they were, by the measure of his divine 
claim, the more binding. So does a man become 
the better citizen, neighbor, husband, father, by so 
much as he is a single-minded and exclusive servant 
of Christ; for he serves Christ in all. 

What this man was in his own house, and to his 
own wife and children, I dare not undertake to say. 
You who were his neighbors know as well as any 
can know whose hearts are not broken now; he was 
their ideal man, their earthly all; and that all — how 
much it was! Was he not, indeed, idolized? But 
upon this inner sanctuary of domestic love and agony 



In Memorlam. 425 

we must let the veil drop; we can venture no more 
than this glimpse of its sanctities. 

But let us cast our eyes yet again upon this de- 
voted servant of Christ. "Whether at the bar, on 
the bench, in the Church, among his friends, or at 
his own fireside, the ruling motive of his life is to 
secure the approbation of his great Master. He 
knows the Master will come, but he knows not 
when. No doubt, he expects some warning, but it 
may be otherwise; he may come suddenly, unan- 
nounced. Days wear on — the faithful servant never 
flags; years elapse, and the spirit of service rises 
into enthusiasm. He entered upon this service in 
the flush of early manhood; years bring only a more 
ready obedience and a more hearty diligence; the 
Master becomes more and more to him, until it seems 
that he can never do enough to show his love; the 
loins are girt about with truth, and the robe is gath- 
ered up in preparation for any instant call; the 
lights are burning; the second watch is ended; it is 
the third watch ; the time wears on. Does he faint? 
does he doze? Behold him, now! The loins are 
girded about still, and the lights all burning; he is 
waiting; he is doing all things as if the Master's eye 
was upon him. It is well; for the Master is at the 
door, coming silently, in the darkness, unannounced ; 
in a moment he will knock. 

On a short trip from home, on important business, 
Judge Btrd joins his friends at the depot, in the 
morning, cheerful as was his wont, enters the car — 
having completed his business — and is on the way 
again for home. Home — alas! he will never see it 



426 In *Memoriam. 

more ! The train is upon a bridge ; there is a crash ; 
the bridge is broken; the car he is in drops into the 
chasm ! 

The Master has come; he knocks; there is no 
warning ; there is no time for preparation. But the 
servant is ready; he is waiting; he has been waiting 
long. By one exclamation he welcomes his Lord; 
the door is unbolted; the Master has come in; ere 
he is aware, the faithful servant is made to " sit down 
to meat" in the heavenly mansion, and sees the 
Master himself coming forth, girded, to serve him. 
He whom he served is not now ashamed to serve 
him. 

Honored and provided to the fullest measure of 
celestial riches and dignity, the servant is with the 
Lord forever. The Master found him waiting, and 
all that the best of masters can be to his best serv- 
ants will his Lord be to him for evermore. What a 
glorious reward! 

Truly, blessed is this servant! 



Going on to Perfection. 427 



doinjj 011 to perfection 



SERMON XIII. 

"Therefore leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, 
let us go on unto perfection; not laying again the foundation 
of repentance from dead works, and of faith toward God, of 
the doctrine of baptisms, and of laying on of hands, and of 
resurrection of the dead, and of eternal judgment." Heb. 
vi. 1, 2. 

THE antithesis between "the principles of the 
doctrine of Christ" and the "perfection" is 
the first thing in the text that strikes onr attention. 
There is difference of opinion as to the exact import 
of these terms. Some suppose "the principles," or 
"the discourse of the principles," as they render it, 
refers to the imperfect statement of the truths of 
faith in the Old Testament Scriptures, and "perfec- 
tion" to the final and full statement in the New. 
There is, no doubt, some plausibility in this view. 

But, upon the whole, my conviction is that the 
antithesis is to be applied rather to different parts 
of the Christian doctrine than to different stages of 
its disclosure. 



428 Going on to Perfection. 

The philosophy of the Christian religion cannot 
be comprehended until we perceive a certain vital 
distinction of parts involved in it. That distinction 
I suppose to be given in the text, under the phrases, 
"principles,'' or, more in accordance with modern 
usage, "rudiments of the doctrine," and "perfection." 

Christianity is a religion designed for fallen creat- 
ures, with a view to their recovery. There is that 
in it, therefore, necessarily, which would not appear 
in the religion of a community of angels. A reve- 
lation to a world where there was no depravity, no 
sin, would deal only with matters appropriate to 
holy natures; it would be designed only to establish 
and guide them in the condition of life they were 
already in, with a view to security and development. 
But Christianity is a religion intended for such as 
have fallen away from original purity, and is, there- 
fore, adjusted to that fact. It is not, moreover, a 
revelation, simply, of God's will with respect to the 
treatment of depraved creatures; in that case, it 
would contain only a punitive code; but it is a rev- 
elation to a revolted province of Jehovah's empire, 
looking to the recovery of its inhabitants to their 
proper fealty. The administration in a province in 
revolution must differ widely from that of one in 
due submission and peace. That is the difference 
between the religion of heaven and that of the 
earth. 

But the divine government on the earth is not 
punitive — it is restorative; it therefore involves a 
process — the process of restoration; this gives its 
differentia. But God's government of intelligent 



Going on to Perfection. 429 

beings, in all worlds, must be, in fact, a unit; the 
same principles of moral perfection must appear 
everywhere. The same ultimate condition, there- 
fore, that obtains in a world where evil has never 
appeared must be contemplated as the end of a re- 
storative administration in a fallen world; the same 
principles of purity must be contemplated as the 
issue of the process. So, precisel} r , in the Christian 
religion; it looks to the "perfection;" its aim is 
restoration; it looks to changes moral, physical, deep, 
pervasive, complete, so that we shall have a world 
"wherein dwelleth righteousness." The process 
contemplates a result. 

The religion of Jesus, then, embraces, first, a sys- 
tem of saving agencies, and, secondly, the principles 
which constitute the saved condition; it involves a proc- 
ess and a result. There is the process of salvation, 
and there is the saved condition to be realized. This 
distinction is inevitable in fact, and apparent in rev- 
elation. It is this which, as I suppose, is given in 
the antithesis of the text — the rudiments embracing 
the method of grace — the perfection being the result, 
the saved condition when it is attained. 

Let us leave the "principles of the doctrine," and 
"go on unto perfection." We are not to rest in the 
rudiments; there is nothing ultimate in them; they 
have no value in themselves — none whatever, except 
as they are related to the result; yet they are neces- 
sary; they cannot be dispensed with, because they 
constitute the only method of reaching the result. 
Perfection can be attained only through the rudi- 
mentary process. 



430 Going on to Perfection. 

The apostle proceeds from this general admonition 
to a more specific statement of the principles. 

This statement embraces only six particulars, but 
the range of implications is very great, and, I sup- 
pose, embraces the whole field; it makes an analysis 
from the practical side, mainly. The divine agencies 
are only implied, except in one instance. Atone- 
ment is not specifically mentioned, but repentance 
and faith, which imply it, are. The work of the 
Holy Spirit is evidently referred to. With this ex- 
ception, the rudiments given are those with which 
we have to do in a practical way, either as indicating 
duty or appealing to motives. Resurrection of the 
dead and eternal judgment appeal to motives to re- 
pent. 

The six "principles" enumerated will be seen, 
upon a little reflection, to stand in pairs, and so to 
fall into three classes. 

The first two — repentance and faith — belong to 
the personal, subjective process, through which sal- 
vation is attained. 

The second two — the doctrine of baptisms and the 
laying on of hands — stand for the outward forms, 
which serve as means of grace. Besides this, the first 
one of the two, as we shall see more fully hereafter, 
refers directly to the work of the Holy Spirit. 

The last two — resurrection and judgment — com- 
plete the saving process, and, for present practical 
ends, constitute powerful motives to repentance and 
a holy life. 

We proceed to consider these principles more fully. 

First, "Repentance from dead works." Repent- 



Going on to Perfection. 431 

ance stands first in fact, as it is first in the apostle's 
statement. This order is important. There are some 
who affirm that in the Christian life faith precedes 
repentance; but those who hold this view are such 
as teach a superficial doctrine as to faith. In their 
view, faith is mere belief. N~o doubt, a man must 
believe that God is, and that he is a Rewarder of 
them that diligently seek him, before he can repent; 
but this belief is common to all who are not infidels; 
it does not necessarily affect the life, at all, but is 
compatible with the deepest state of impenitency. 

Repentance is the incipiency of the spiritual life; 
conviction of sin by the Holy Spirit precedes and 
conditions it, yet it does not necessarily follow upon 
conviction. Conviction may be resisted; when it is 
yielded to it issues in repentance, and repentance is 
the first voluntary movement of the soul toward life; 
it is a gracious state, and is the first step; it is the 
concurrence of our will with the work of the Holy 
Spirit, and in this concurrence is found the true definition 
of all saving experience. 

There is wide-spread popular error as to the nature 
of repentance, and this error is of bad practical 
tendency. My conviction is that men generally un- 
derstand repentance to be an emotional phenome- 
non. This is, certainly, a most inadequate idea of it. 
Emotional manifestations are, rather, incidental to 
it; they are not to be discredited nor undervalued; 
but they do not constitute repentance. No doubt, 
where there is genuine repentance, there will be a 
feeling of humility and contrition ; but this inward 
sense of sin, this profound feeling of contrition, is 



432 Going on to Perfection. 

not always accompanied by- emotional ebullition. 
There may be a profound and healthy religious feel- 
ing that is not acute; there may be a most thorough 
repentance where there is no weeping; there may 
also be great emotional manifestation where there 
is no repentance, the connection of which with re- 
ligion, in any way, is merely accidental. There may 
be a contagion of sensibility in religious assemblies, 
in wdiich many will be affected to tears who show 
no other nor any permanent signs of repentance. 
We are in danger of making too much of mere sen- 
sibility. 

I do not discourage emotion in religion; it is util- 
ized to the highest ends. No doubt, in extensive 
revivals of religion, a mere contagion of sensibility 
has originated an interest, in thousands of cases, 
which has gone on to repentance. Every suscepti- 
bility of men's nature must be taken advantage of 
to lead them to Christ. An influence that has but 
little of what is distinctively religious in it, at first, 
may lead on to a genuine work of grace. All per- 
sonal and social influences ought to be taken advan- 
tage of to save men; for many, if they are saved at 
all, will have to be "pulled out of the fire." 

But the supposition, on the part of so many, that 
repentance is to be found solely in the sensibilities, 
that its depth and genuineness are to be determined 
by emotional phenomena, is liable to great abuse, 
and often, I doubt not, leads to evil consequences. 
Many are too well satisfied with mere ebullition, 
and many others unduly discouraged in the absence 
of it. 



Going on to Perfection. 433 

I once met. with a man, in a time of great revival, 
kneeling with those who made open confession of sin, 
and evidently the subject of strong emotion. He 
was a man of powerful physique, and his frame was 
convulsed; he was in an agony. Every time peni- 
tents were called he came, and with the same intense 
feeling. My sympathies were fully aroused. This 
lasted for two or three days; the violence of feeling 
then abated, but he was still at his place. The next 
day I saw him seated in a remote part of the house. 
The expression of his face was peculiar; it was hard, 
emotionless, but profoundly miserable. I felt that 
things were going wrong, but did not know what 
the trouble was; I was young, and not deeply 
skilled in spiritual diagnosis. I went to him after 
the sermon — for he did not respond to the invita- 
tion — and took my seat by him in the pew. In an- 
swer to my inquiry, he said, "I am lost; I may as 
well give it up; there is no salvation for me; feeling 
is all gone; the Spirit has forsaken me; there is no 
hope for me; I am lost," or words to that effect. I 
was at a loss what to reply; but a new light dawned 
upon me. I knew this man to be a man of good 
sense, and a sincere man. I discovered a truth then 
that I have never lost sight of since. Said I, " Tell 
me, if you thought it possible to be saved, would 
you continue to pray?" " Of course, I would," said 
he. "Are you ready to abandon your sins if God 
will help you?" "To abandon my sins! yes, that 
is what I desire, above all things; but God has aban- 
doned me, and there is no hope for me." " How do 
you know God has abandoned you?" "Why, my 
19 



434 Going on to Perfection. 

heart is as hard as a stone; I can't feel; the Spirit 
has left me." I told him he was mistaken; no man 
was forsaken of God who truly desired to give up 
his sins and serve him. " I know," I said, " what is 
the matter with you ; you have heen under violent 
emotion for several days; nervous tension has heen 
too great; there was obliged to he reaction. That 
state of things could not last. You still earnestly 
desire to be a Christian; that desire is from God, 
and is proof that the Holy Spirit is still with you. 
The fact that you cannot command your emotions is 
not strange; you have mistaken a physiological phe- 
nomenon for a spiritual one." 

So, indeed, it was. That man did feel, profoundly, 
but not acutely. The subsidence of emotional sen- 
sibility was no sign of a withdrawal of gracious in- 
fluences, but only of nervous exhaustion. With 
great joy I saw him renew the effort, with more 
enlightened view T s; it w r as not long till he was re- 
joicing in God. I have little doubt that many, in 
this false view, have given up in despair, when ju- 
dicious counsel might have led them to the light. 

Repentance is not realized in the emotions alone, 
nor chiefly; it is a movement of the whole life; it 
involves the w T hole conscious nature, and culminates 
in the will; it is the inw T ard forsaking of sin. 

It is the movement of the soul away from sin, and 
toward God. 

The Bible represents the sinner as being far from 
God; he is invited to come to God. The fact can- 
not be so w T ell expressed in any other terms; yet I 
suppose that children are often misled by them; 



Going on to Perfection. - 435 

they get the idea of distance from God, in space, 
and when they are invited to come to God they 
think of a movement in space. It is not that; it is 
as when two men are alienated from each other, and 
you say they are distant toward each other. Our 
distance from God is a fact of character; we are re- 
moved from him by sin, and every movement away 
from sin is a movement toward God. This is just 
what repentance is. There may be greater or less 
emotion; but if the soul turns away from sin, that is 
repentance. 

And it is a work of grace; it is the incipiency of 
the Christian life; it is the dawn, as the new birth is 
the sunrise, of the Christian day. A sincere and 
thorough repentance, if it is followed up, will as 
certainly issue in final salvation as the new birth 
will. 

"Faith toward God" stands in immediate connec- 
tion with "repentance from dead works," and is a 
part of the subjective process in the great work of 
personal salvation. 

We sometimes hear the phrase, "An act of faith." 
I do not object to this form of expression, particu- 
larly, but yet it does not seem to me to indicate the 
nature of faith, with accuracy. Faith seems to me 
to be not so properly an act as a state of the mind and 
heart. 

I have never yet seen any definition of faith that 
satisfied me. It is belief, but it is more than mere 
belief; indeed, it is more accurate to say it involves 
belief than to say it is belief. It also involves the 
fact of trust in the divine method of pardon. It is, 



436 * Going on to Perfection. 

moreover, a personal affection. It is not mere trust 
in the method of pardon ; it is personal confidence 
in the Author of the method. More than that: in 
faith the soul actually affiances itself to Christ. We 
give him our faith; we take him for all that he is; 
he is not only our Redeemer, but he is also our 
Lord. This Lordship is recognized in faith. We 
receive him as our absolute Sovereign; we enthrone 
him over our souls; he becomes to us King of kings 
and Lord of lords; he is to us God over all, and 
blessed for evermore. In faith there is constant 
fealty to him. 

There is still another function of faith: it is spir- 
itual insight; it is the perception of divine things; 
it goes beyond the mere belief of an unconverted 
man; it discovers the reality of unseen things: they 
become palpable; they are no longer obscure and 
half unreal, but the most real things in the whole 
range of thought. Faith is not actual vision of di- 
vine realities, but in its higher states it approaches 
even that; it is a cognition of them so full and as- 
suring as to justify the exalted declaration of one of 
our sublimest hymns : 

Faith lends its realizing light, 

The clouds disperse, the shadows fly, 

Th' Invisible appears in sight, 
And God is seen by mortal eye. 

Faith recognizes the fact that " God Avas in Christ, 
reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing 
their trespasses unto them." It accepts the gracious 
benefaction upon the revealed conditions, and re- 
joices in the forgiving voice of a merciful God. 



Going on to Perfection. 437 

Faith, I have said, supervenes upon repentance, 
and is vitally connected with it. Repentance is a 
movement toward God, and jnst where this move- 
ment touches consciously upon God it "becomes faith. 
That conscious touch of God is faith. Here the new 
life begins. In faith the soul is receptive of God, 
and becomes the subject of his regenerating power. 
In vital communion with him we are transformed, 
and become, not by a formal adoption only, but by 
actual regeneration and participation of nature, his 
children; we are begotten again unto a lively hope; 
we are born of the Spirit. 

Faith is the condition of receptivity toward God; 
it is the state of consciousness in which God, re- 
vealed in Christ, is actually received. "He came 
unto his own, and his own received him not; but as 
many as received him,, to them gave he power to be- 
come the sons of God, even to them that believe on 
his name." From this passage it is clear that it is 
faith that receives Christ. Faith is, in fact, the 
condition of receptivity toward God. This is not 
merely a dogma of religion; it is also a dictum of 
philosophy. What a man believes he receives, so 
that, as truth, it becomes the property of his mind; 
what he believes in he not only receives, but appro- 
priates, so that, by actual spiritual assimilation, it 
enters into his character. Christian faith, which is 
a belief, a confiding affection, and a receptive voli- 
tion, is, in the highest degree, a condition of receptiv- 
ity. In faith the soul is susceptible of God; it opens 
itself to him; it invites him; and where he finds an 
open soul he always enters, and wherever he enters 



438 Going on to Perfection. 

he brings salvation with him. "As many as received 
him, to them gave he power to become the sons of 
God." 

I said I had not found any definition of faith that 
satisfied me. Faith covers too broad a field of con- 
sciousness and is too complex to be fully set forth in 
any brief formula; any compendious definition must 
be too general to give a full view. If I should at- 
tempt one, perhaps I might find a postulate that 
would cover the whole ground, and at the same time 
be perfectly accurate; but it would be so general as 
itself to require elaboration to bring out its import. 
Faith, I should say, is the conscious right adjustment of 
the soul to God; God is taken in all that he says and 
for all that he is. That is faith. He is to me all that 
the Infinite Father can be to the finite child. 

Salvation is conditioned upon faith; it is realized 
in faith. This fundamental doctrine of Protestant- 
ism is as much a truth of reason as of revelation. 
In whatever act or state the soul becomes really re- 
ceptive of God, it is restored to God in that fact; and 
that is salvation. When a man is in a state in which 
the agencies of grace can become operative in him, 
the gracious effect is inevitable. God is love, and 
only when his love is excluded is there death; he is 
the Fountain of life, overflowing upon all — rich unto 
all that call upon him; only when we are closed 
against him do we perish. Receiving the Atone- 
ment, we have pardon of our sin, and with that the 
renewing, sanctifying grace of the Holy Spirit. 

We sec how closely repentance and faith are re- 
lated: the Godward movement of repentance cul- 



Going on to Perfection. 439 

minates in faith; this is its consummation; in this 
it reaches communion with God, and takes vital 
hold of him. The process of voluntary return to 
God completes itself in faith. 

"Of the doctrine of baptisms, and of laying on of 
hands." 

Baptisms — in the plural. If the reference is to 
the former dispensation, the baptisms are the various 
formal purifications of the Mosaic ritual; but if the 
exegesis I have adopted be correct, the baptisms 
must be something that belongs to the agencies and 
processes of salvation. But if so, why the plural 
use of the word? Does not the apostle say, in an- 
other place, There is " one Lord, one faith, one bap- 
tism?" 

No doubt there is one essential baptism, and only 
one; that is the baptism of the Holy Ghost. 

Why should we understand the ordinance of bap- 
tism to be meant wherever the word baptism occurs? 
The baptism of the Spirit is as much more impor- 
tant than the ordinance as the ministry of the Lord 
was more important than that of John. "I indeed 
baptize you with water unto repentance; but he 
that cometh after me is mightier than I" — so much 
mightier than I that I am not worthy to perform 
the most menial offices about his person — "whose 
shoes I am not worthy to bear: he shall baptize you 
with the Holy Ghost, and with fire." The relative 
value of the work of John and that of Christ is the 
relative value of baptism by water on the one hand, 
and the baptism of the Holy Ghost on the other. 
This is the real baptism, that is the symbol of it; this 



440 Going on to Perfection. 

is the Lord's work, that is man's; this is the sub- 
stance, that is the shadow; this is the one baptism, 
that represents it, in an outward and sensible form. 

What a monstrous perversion it is to displace the 
substance for the shadow, to supersede the real by 
the representative! Let it not, then, be supposed that 
wherever the word occurs the ordinance is intended; 
on the contrary, unless the ordinance is indicated by 
the context, it is fair to interpret it as signifying the 
real baptism — the baptism of the Spirit. "One 
Lord" — he who, coming after the Baptist, was before 
him and mightier than he ; " one faith " — faith in the 
one Lord; "one baptism" — the baptism of the one 
Lord: " he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost." 

But in the text the formal outward baptism is 
also referred to in connection with the real, which 
it represents — baptisms. The ordinance is, indeed, a 
beautiful and most suggestive symbol of the work 
of the Holy Spirit. By the operation of the Spirit 
we are cleansed, from sin, and the uses of water most 
naturally represent that work. 

I do not care to make a quarrel with any one upon 
the form of an ordinance. Others may hold their 
own views as to the mode of this one; I shall seek 
no controversy with them. I might repel an ungen- 
erous assault upon my own views; but I will not be 
responsible for rending the body of Christ upon such 
a question. I have my views, indeed, as to the 
proper mode of baptism, and they are clear and de- 
cided. Nor am I disposed to be silent on this point ; 
for, while it is certainly not vital, I cannot consider 
it altogether unimportant. 



Going on to Perfection. 441 

The true baptism is described in several passages. 
The Holy Spirit "came upon" the disciples, "fell 
on " them, was " poured out upon them." The puri- 
fying presence comes from above; this is called bap- 
tism. 

God has ordained baptism by water as the symbol 
of this, and it does, in the most natural way, repre- 
sent it. Water is taken to represent the purifying 
effect of the work of the Spirit, for the plain reason 
that water is commonly used for purposes of purifi- 
cation; the only question is as to the mode of its 
use. Immersion in water does indeed represent the 
fact of purification very well; but it fails in one im- 
portant particular when used to represent our spir- 
itual cleansing — it does not refer to the source of it; 
it is from above — from God. Immersion in water 
fails to express that most vital fact ; it represents the 
fact of cleansing, but does not refer to the divine 
agency. On the other hand, water poured upon the 
person expresses both the fact of the cleansing and 
its source: it is of God; it is from above. 

It is no sufficient answer to say that there can be 
no special direction in space from which God comes 
upon us in the work of salvation ; that up and down 
are but relative terms, and cannot apply to absolute 
space — space, as God inhabits it; that he fills all 
space, and the point in space which is to us above, 
now, will not be so twelve hours hence. I say that 
this is no sufficient answer, for two reasons: First, 
God uses these terms with respect to his relation to 
us. The Bible uniformly represents him as above, 
with respect to man. Though as to the mere phys- 
ic 



442 Going on to Pc 

ical idea of up and down he is on all sides of us, we 
must believe there is some truth expressed in the use 
of these terms; we have, therefore, no right to dis- 
regard them, nor to disparage the scriptural phrase- 
ology. In the second place, there is some natural 
correspondence between the physical relation of the 
high and the low and moral excellency and degra- 
dation. In all languages, that which is pure, and 
noble, and great, is characterized as being exalted, 
elevated, high; and, on the contrary, that which is 
mean, and corrupt, and little, and contemptible, is 
represented as being low. Hell is beneath, in uni- 
form usage of both Scripture and common speech; 
heaven is above. Passing from a holy to a sinful 
condition is falling. Adam fell; the angels that kept 
not their first estate fell. Angels are in the heavens 
above, and God is over all, blessed for evermore — he 
is the Most Hisrh. This universal association of the 
good and the great with that which is high, which 
is above, gives important significance to the Script- 
ure reference to the influence of the Spirit as being 
'poured out upon us. It comes from that which is 
above us; it is from God. 

Immersion, then, is only a half symbol; it repre- 
sents the fact of cleansing, but not the source of it, 
while pouring represents both, and is the complete 
symbol of spiritual regeneration. 

Baptism, as it is inward and real, is the actual 
work of salvation, wrought of God in our life; it is 
the work of which we become recipient in faith; it 
is the divine power delivering us from sin; it is the 
divine movement in response to the human move- 



Going on to Perfection. 443 

meDt of repentance and faith. In fact, the divine 
movement anticipates repentance in its awakening 
and convincing function, but in actual regeneration 
it is in response to repentance and faith. 

As it is outward and formal, baptism represents 
the inward work, and belongs to the system of ordi- 
nances, and, as such, has an important function as a 
means of grace, and belongs to the rudiments, to 
the process toward perfection, in a subordinate way, 
as the work of the Spirit does in its vital effect. 
The ordinances have no intrinsic value; their office 
is secondary; they contribute to the work of salva- 
tion not hj their own proper efficacy, but as they 
contribute to quicken faith; they give sensible ex- 
pression to spiritual truth — they are a sort of in- 
carnation of it — in accommodation to our present 
condition, making use even of physical conditions to 
interpret spiritual truth to us, in order that it may 
become the more real to our faith. While we are in 
the flesh divine things condescend to approach us in 
incarnate forms. We contemplate God through 
such media as are adapted to our condition; but the 
day is coming when we shall require no such media, 
when " we shall see him as he is," and " be like 
him." Then, in that state, we shall have no temple 
to worship him in; we shall require no media, but 
"shall see as we are seen, and know as we are 
known." 

"Laying on of hands," as an ordinance of the 
Church, is used in evangelical Churches only in the 
ordination of ministers of the gospel. Though it 
was used by the apostles on other occasions, yet its 



444 Going on to Perfection. 

habitual use from the beginning seems to have been 
confined to this. As an established ordinance of 
religion, this was clearly its design. In this use it 
has a special and beautiful significance. Hands are 
laid on him who devotes himself to the work of 
God, as if to take him away from the world, from 
all secular affairs, and hand him over to his sacred 
calling; henceforth he is the Lord's; his very avo- 
cation is spiritual ; he is to " draw all his cares and 
studies this way;" he is to have nothing else to do; 
he is taken possession of by the Church, and the 
whole man — body, soul, and employment — is to be 
consecrated to the work of God. 

The Lord's Supper is omitted in the enumeration 
of ordinances, though certainly it is not the least of 
them; but the enumeration, it will be remembered, 
is not exhaustive, a part being given for the whole. 
This is not unusual, in either sacred or secular lit- 
erature. Baptism and laying on of hands stand, in 
this place, for. the whole system of ordinances in 
the Church. That this system belongs to that which 
is rudimentary in the Christian religion requires no 
proof; it is evident at first blush; it is a part of the 
process- through which the result is to be reached; 
it belongs to the agencies and methods by which we 
go on to perfection. 

But as in the text the rudiments arc presented in 
three classes, and each class is represented by two 
particulars, so only two of the ordinances are here 
specified. The two stand for their class. 

" Of resurrection of the dead, and of eternal judg- 
ment.'' In these the consummation is reached; the 



Going on to Perfection. 445 

process of recovery ends in them; they introduce 
the saved to their final and highest perfection. 

The resurrection of the body is a doctrine pecul- 
iar to Christianity; it is found in no other system 
of belief; if it is intimated in any other, it is in a 
vague and indefinite way; but in the Christian 
teaching it is categorically affirmed, and is defined 
with perfect precision. "It is sown a natural body, 
it is raised a spiritual body." This "vile body" is 
to be raised, and "fashioned like unto His glorious 
body." 

Though actual identity of personal being is to be 
found in the soul, yet there can be no doubt that the 
physical nature is the necessary vehicle of spiritual 
powers; so we may well believe that the soul, exist- 
ing separately from the body, cannot realize its des- 
tiny. What the conditions of consciousness are in 
the case of disembodied spirits we cannot imagine. 
That they are conscious there is no doubt, nor is 
there a doubt that the righteous enter at once into a 
state of blessedness after death ; but it seems equally 
certain that in that state they are not capable of 
their highest activity, nor of their fullest destiny. 

In this fact is given, no doubt, the difference be- 
tween the condition of the soul before and after the 
resurrection; it must have its proper vehicle in or- 
der to realize the highest possibilities of its nature; 
it must possess its body again; but it will not be the 
body in its present gross form. The body will be 
redeemed not only from death, but also from its 
present coarseness and corruption, and fashioned 
upon the model of our Lord's glorified body. What 



446 Going on to Perfection. 

wonders offeree, of activity, and of beauty, may be 
realized in a physical form we shall probably never 
know, until we see the "redemption of the body." 
What achievement the soul may be capable of we 
must learn from the event, and can never know until 
that takes place. 

It has pleased God to dispose of all men, from the 
time probation ends to the last day, by placing them 
in that condition which we call death. The soul is 
separated from the body, which falls into dissolution. 
For reasons known to himself he proposes a public 
and formal judgment, at which all men shall be as- 
sembled, and the history and character of every man 
shall be brought out in the presence of all the rest. 
The dead are to be raised on the last day, and made 
immortal; the soul is again to inhabit its body; the 
deeds done in the body are to be brought under ju- 
dicial review, and a just award made in each case for 
eternity. Then the righteous, raised from the dead, 
the soul and body joined again, shall be in a condi- 
tion to enjoy the destiny for which they were created ; 
the process is completed; perfection is reached. 

In a very important respect, no doubt, and as to 
spiritual character, perfection is reached by the peo- 
ple of God in this world. Faith appropriates the 
merits of Christ, and we "are complete in him;" 
his "blood cleanseth us from all sin." This is the 
glorious privilege of believers, even amid the corrup- 
tions of time; "this is the victory that overcometh 
the world, even our faith." The liberty of the sons 
of God, even in this life, is a grand triumph indeed, 
and is perfection in inward purity, yet a perfection 



Going on to Perfection. 447 

subject to limitations of ignorance and infirmity. 
The redemption of the body must come before the 
final and highest perfection is reached. 

II. Wq come to consider, in the second place, the 
relation of the system of rudiments to the 'perfection. 
" Therefore leaving the principles of the doctrine of 
Christ, let us go on unto perfection." As a practical 
suggestion, applicable to our present state, how shall 
we understand the injunction, "Leaving the princi- 
ples," "go on unto perfection?" How do we leave 
the principles? Do we abandon the use of them, 
and occupy ourselves simply with the perfection? 

On the contrary, perfection is to be attained only 
by the use of the rudiments, and they are to be left 
in no sense that implies casting them aside; yet 
there is a very important sense in which they are to 
be left. 

Take a child, at the outset of its educational 
course; it is occupied exclusively with the alphabet. 
This is mastered at last; he knows every character, 
and can name it at sight. Now he is ready for an- 
other step, and is directed to leave the alphabet, and 
proceed to the formation of syllables. He leaves 
the study of the form and name of the several char- 
acters, and proceeds to study their powers and func- 
tions. That accomplished, he leaves it again, and 
learns to combine syllables into words, and these 
into sentences, and finally, through all the mysteries 
of punctuation, and accent, and emphasis, and in- 
flection, he acquires the art of reading. But though 
he leaves the alphabet, and syllable-making, and all 
the rest in their turn, he yet carries them all along 



448 Going on to Perfection. 

to the last. He leaves them in one sense, in another 
he does not; he leaves them as studies, but continues 
to use them as instruments. 

But when he can read, is he educated? Far from 
it; his education is not begun; he is only prepared 
now to begin his real education. He has simply ac- 
quired the use of those rudiments by which he is to 
acquire knowledge; that is all. So the characters 
and signs of mathematical text-books are only rudi- 
ments. Through the use of them the most intricate 
problems may be solved, and the sublimest truths 
reached; but they are not science. 

The Perfect Intelligence does not require the aid 
of rudiments; God knows all truth, in all its most 
complex relations, without any such aid. But we 
require this rudimentary process ; our memory must 
have these aids, and our progress will depend greatly 
on our skill in the use of them. This is an incident 
of our imperfection in intellectual power. 

We never leave repentance and faith, as to the use 
of them. When we have acquired the power of re- 
pentance and faith the attainment of them is no 
longer an objective point; but we shall need to use 
them to the end of our days. Through them we are 
to go on to holiness, which is our real perfection. 
In holiness of heart and life the whole process must 
find its consummation. We never leave the ordi- 
nances; they are important aids to faith. There is 
a practical use even of those facts which belong to 
the final movement of the process in which it reaches 
the heavenly perfection. The resurrection of the 
dead and eternal judgment appeal with great power 



Going on to Perfection. 449 

to the motives; they are most cogent incentives to 
repentance and holy living. 

If we were "already perfect," we should not re- 
quire these rudiments; but, alas for us, how far we 
are from it! " In me (that is, in my flesh) dwelleth 
no good thing." We are born into the world in a 
depraved condition; therefore are we incapable of 
purity; it can be attained only by a divinely-or- 
dained method. There must be agencies of grace to 
convey a divine and saving energy, so that through 
the power of God we may be recovered to himself. 

The value of the rudiments is not in themselves, 
but in their relation to the object which they con- 
template. Only as the "principles of the doctrine" 
tend to " perfection " are they of any real value; but 
their relation to this gives them the highest con- 
ceivable value. The scaffolding is as important as 
the house, though in itself it has not the slightest im- 
portance; but without it the house could not be; its 
whole value is in its relation to the house, but in that 
relation, since there could be no house without it, it 
has the full value of the house itself. 

Let no man disparage any step, however feeble, in 
the way to holiness. Repentance may have no merit 
in itself; faith may have none; but, as rudiments 
through which holiness is attained, they have a dig- 
nity and value that no words can express. The up- 
ward struggles of a soul from the depths and horrors 
of sin engage the sympathy of angels, among whom 
there is joy over one sinner that repenteth, more 
than over ninety and nine just persons who need no 
repentance. The ordinances, however inoperative 



450 Going on to Perfection. 

in themselves, as they are means of grace, and tend 
to quicken faith, contribute to the great result, and 
acquire a high and hallowed significance; hut all 
these values are ascertained in the great end toward 
which the whole system progresses. 

III. Let us remark, in the third place, more largely 
upon the nature of the perfection. 

1. It is subjective. As such it is realized, first, in 
character; all taint of sin is purged away; the affec- 
tions and dispositions become pure; the motions of 
the will are freely and joyfully concurrent with the 
demands of God's will; inward pollutions are purged 
away by the blood of the cross, and positive, active 
goodness takes place; sinful propensities are over- 
come by the indwelling Spirit of God; holy affec- 
tions and desires after God give character to the 
whole man. 

The man who is holy loves God with his whole 
heart, and his neighbor as himself; outward good- 
ness is the fruit of inward grace. 

I do not propose, at this time, to indulge in any 
discussion of the doctrine of Christian perfection, in 
any aspect of it upon which there may be honest 
differences of view. In one thing all are agreed: 
no impurity can enter heaven. "Without holiness 
no man can see the Lord." Salvation, as it is final 
and finished, means sinless perfection, absolute pu- 
rity. "Be ye holy, even as I am holy." 

Those holy gates forever bar 

Pollution, sin, and shame; 
None shall obtain admittance there 

But foll'wers of the Lamb. 



Going on to Perfection. 451 

I ask you, then, people of God, who are present 
here to-day, Are you living up to a standard of 
Christian purity and devotion which you yourself 
recognize as being attainable? are you going on to 
perfection? are you making constant and sensible 
progress? are you, by repentance and faith, and 
prayer, and the constant and faithful use of the or- 
dinances, pressing toward the mark of the prize of 
your high calling? are you living daily in prospect 
of the resurrection, and with a view to eternal judg- 
ment? Having this hope in you, are you purifying 
yourself, even as He is pure? 

Subjectively, perfection is to be realized, also, in 
physical conditions. The body, at last, in the resur- 
rection, will be the seat of no appetites that will be 
the occasion of sin; there will be no " motions of 
sin in the members" then; the conditions of the 
physical nature will conduce to holiness; there will 
be no conflict, as now, between "the flesh and the 
spirit;" the flesh will no longer "lust against the 
spirit." Not only will there be no temptation in the 
members, but there will be no pain; there will be no 
sickness; there will be no injury from accidents; the 
body will be so vital and elastic that it will be as in- 
dependent of accident as the atmospheric air; there 
will be overflowing sense of life — delicious life — in 
every organ and in every member. 

Perfection will be realized in intellectual powers. 
" We shall know as we are known " in the world to 
come; Ave shall comprehend nature in all its magni- 
tudes and mysteries; we shall understand provi- 
dence in all its most inexplicable dispensations. 



452 Going on to Perfection. 

How we are now bewildered, sometimes, and even 
tempted to doubt God! How often are the dreadful 
experiences of the seventy-third Psalm suffered by 
the children of God! So strange, so dark to us 
seem the distributions of good and evil amongst 
men; but then we shall see the wise method that 
governed all, and the infinite goodness that prompted 
all. 

2. The perfection will appear, also, in objective condi- 
tions. 

The relations of the saved among themselves and 
with God will be perfect; there will be nothing to 
offend; the blessedness of each will be consummated 
in the glory of others; the reciprocations of celes- 
tial friendship and the confidences of holy love will 
constitute the perfection of social possibility. We 
shall be conscious of God; he will be present over 
all and in all, and his smile will be upon all. 

The celestial nature will be all that Divine Wis- 
dom can achieve in beauty and adaptation for the 
happiness of his people. In nature, as we are now 
related to it, the adaptation, though striking and 
beneficent, is not complete; for while there is much 
that conduces to happiness and health, there is much, 
also, that is destructive of both, and beauty, though 
profuse and often exquisite, is marred by many de- 
formities, which are always repulsive and often hid- 
eous. But when the perfection shall be realized — 
when the new heavens and the new earth shall ap- 
pear — there will be nothing to offend; eye, and ear, 
and touch, will give exquisite response to every con- 
tact with a perfect nature; the skies will be forever 



Going on to Perfection. 453 

radiant, the fields forever covered with verdure, the 
trees perpetually in efflorescence and in fruit; per- 
ennial fountains of blessedness will be evermore at 
flood; the atmosphere, pure and perfumed with ce- 
lestial odors, and reflecting the uncreated light, in 
ten thousand hues, from jeweled walls and domes, 
will bathe the City of God in eternal splendors; 
music in full perfection of harmony and melody — 
now hushed almost to nothing, holding the ear in 
doubt whether it be sound or silence, now trilling, 
swelling, rushing, a very riot of accordant and tri- 
umphant sounds, jarring the walls of heaven with 
its vibrations — will give voice to raptures which not 
even immortal speech could utter. Consciousness, 
alive with deepest and most varied susceptibilities, 
will be set in the midst of opulent supplies; every 
demand within will meet its full and instant response 
from without. 

But the blessedness of that world will not be 
merely passive, nor chiefly so. Not in receptivity, 
but in action, is the highest destiny. Not only have 
we susceptibilities to be met, but powers to be em- 
ployed. There will be noble ends to attain, holy 
ambitions to satisfy, beneficent objects to accom- 
plish. What these may be I shall not now consider, 
though the theme is tempting; but be assured we 
shall not just vegetate in heaven; we shall act; we 
shall achieve; we shall deliver ourselves upon the 
objective; we shall exert ourselves, and see the fruit 
of high endeavor in conditions of existence evolved 
by our own thought and handling. Happiness is 
consummated in achievement. 



454 Going on to Perfection. 

To crown all, there will be the presence, the ap- 
probation, the manifested glory of God; the Creator 
will smile upon his creature. "Blessed are the pure 
in heart, for they shall see God." "He that over- 
cometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his 
God, and he shall be my son." 

There we shall see his face, 

And never, never sin ; 
There, from the rivers of his grace, 

Drink endless pleasures in. 

Hear what the word of God says: "And God 
shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there 
shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, 
neither shall there be auy more pain : for the former 
things are passed away. And he that sat upon the 
throne said, Behold I make all things new." "I 
will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of 
the water of life freely." "And he carried me away 
in the spirit to a great and high mountain, and 
showed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, de- 
scending out of heaven from God, having the glory 
of God; and her light was like unto a stone most 
precious, even like a jasper stone, clear as crystal." 
"And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the 
moon, to shine in it ; for the glory of God did lighten 
it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." "And there 
shall be no more curse; but the throne of God and 
of the Lamb shall be in it; and his servants shall 
serve him; and they shall see his face, and his name 
shall be in their foreheads." " Blessed are they that 
do his commandments, that they may have right to 
the tree of life, and may enter in through the gates 



Going on to Perfection. 4o5 

into the city." "Beloved, now are we the sonar of 
God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be; 
but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be 
like him, for we shall see him as he is. And every 
man that hath this hope in him puriiieth himself, 
even as He is pure." 



45C Natural Death. 



statural Jtath 



SERMON XIV. 

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death." 1 Cor. 
xv. 26. 

INATUBAL death is not the penalty of sin. 
• The truth of this proposition is evident from 
several considerations. 

1. Infant children die, but infant children do not 
suffer any penalty; they do not suffer a penalty for 
their own sin, for they have never committed any; 
they do not suffer the penalty of Adam's sin, because 
they are not responsible for that, and even those 
who hold that it is imputed to them hold, also, that 
Christ has borne it for them. All agree that those 
who die in infancy are saved; but those who are 
saved do not suffer the penalty of sin. Whatever 
may be the evil that children suffer, as a consequence 
of the first transgression, it is countervailed in Christ. 
None can suffer a penalty, properly, except those 
who have sinned in fact, in their own person; no 
individual is punished for the sin of another. The 
death of an infant child, then, is not a penalty. If 



Natural Death. 457 

natural death, in any one case, is not a penalty, it is 
not, in its proper effect, penal; if it were, in its own 
nature, a penalty, it would be penal in every in- 
stance of its intiiction. But a very large proportion 
of the human race die in infancy. They do not 
suffer a penalty, in any proper sense of the word: 
therefore, natural death is not in the nature of a 
penalty. 

2. The righteous die, as well as the wicked, but 
they die in Christ: yet physical death, in their case. 
is not different from what it is in the case of the 
unsaved; it is death in every thing that constitutes 
the fact. But those who are in Christ suffer no 
penalty; we may rest assured on that point. He has 
met the demand of the law upon them, and delivered 
them from its condemnation; they are -not con- 
demned;'' and how shall those who are free from 
condemnation suffer a penalty? Christ delivers his 
people from the curse of the law, being made a curse 
for them ; but he does not deliver them from natural 
death; therefore, natural death is not the curse of 
the law — it is not the penalty of sin. 

3. The penalty of the first law given to man — the 
law of Eden, "In the day that thou eatest thereof 
thou shaft surely die" — was not physical death: 
that was not denounced upon man until after the 
fall. It was after the first sin, and after the promise 
of redemption, that God said, "Dust thou art, and 
unto dust shalt thou return."' 

Our Lord represents natural death as a fact not to 
be dreaded: "And I say unto you. my friends. Be 
not afraid of them that kill the body, and after that 
20 



458 Natural Death 

have no more that they can do. But I will forewarn 
you whom ye shall fear: Fear him which, after he 
hath killed, hath power to cast into hell; yea, I say 
unto you, Fear him." Luke xii. 4, 5. Or, as in 
Matt. x. 28, "And fear not them which kill the body, 
but are not able to kill the soul; but rather fear 
him which is able to destroy both soul and body in 
hell." Be assured that when the Infinite Judge 
punishes sin the stroke will be more dreadful than 
temporal death. In the case of Adam, if there had 
been no arrest of penalty by the interposition of a 
Redeemer, no doubt he would have fallen, soul and 
body, into hell, as the wicked must do after the resur- 
rection. That must have cut off the human family 
in the bud, and there could never have been any such 
thing as natural death. The death that never dies 
is the penalty of sin. 

II. Man seems to have been created under the law of 
mortality, as to his physical nature. 

I say seems to have been, for I would not dogma- 
tize on such a point; yet, on scientific grounds, the 
proposition can scarcely be doubted. It is true that 
questions of faith are to be determined by Scripture 
alone, and not by science. But I have no morbid 
jealousy of science; I have not the least apprehen- 
sion of any conflict between it and the word of God. 
No doubt scientific speculation is often dangerously 
adventurous, as well as over-confident, and reaches 
premature conclusions, and thus finds itself in the 
predicament of affirming postulates which prove to 
be unsupported by facts. This species of scientific 
dogmatism is always bold and boastful, and is often 



Natural Death. 459 

found in antagonism with Holy Scripture. So there 
is. also, a habit of theological speculation, which 
takes its own fancies for dogma, and which is put to 
confusion by the advance of knowledge. 

But the intelligent Christian has witnessed too 
many instances of imaginary contest between science 
and the Bible to be alarmed by the outcry oi novices, 
in either the one department or the other. The the- 
ologian may waste a world of ammunition in the 
defense of a misplaced garrison, and. when at last he 
loses tl:t- position, wake up to the discovery that it 
was not of the slightest importance. So the advent- 
urer in science throws out pickets which he has soon 
again to call in. and after all the righting on both 
sides it is discovered that there is no war at all. 

That man was created under the law of mortality is 
a suggestion of science which not a few have taken 
to be an attack on the citadel of the faith; but. cer- 
tainly, there is no established Christian doctrine 
that it contradicts: its acceptance by the theolo- 
gian will not disturb a single stone in the temple of 
faith. 

Perhaps it is premature to affirm it as a truth 
finally settled; but it seems to me to be determined 
beyond reasonable doubt. 

It is true that the science of geology is too new to 
be trusted at all points: but some 01 its conclusions 
must be accepted as indubitable. To deny its plain- 
est intimations seems impossible. Among its un- 
questionable averments are these: 

1. There was animal life on the earth long before 
the creation of man. 



460 Natural Death. 

2. This life existed under the law of mortality; 
dumb brutes lived and died. 

3. Life was very abundant before the human pe- 
riod, and death was universal; mortality was not 
exceptional; death reigned; it was the law of exist- 
ence. By an invariable law all animal forms went 
to decay; there were no exceptions; they were con- 
stituted for it. 

When at last man appeared, he, too, had an ani- 
mal nature, existing under physical conditions iden- 
tical with those of the lower orders. Differing from 
them in a striking way, in form and texture, indeed, 
man has yet a body subject to the same laws of 
birth, growth, nutrition, and decay; like theirs, it 
was constructed for dissolution; its very organiza- 
tion contemplated this result; everything goes to 
establish its identity, in this respect, with all that 
had existed previously; there was nothing in all its 
organs and functions to indicate exemption from the 
universal law, but exactly the contrary. 

Nor is there wanting Scripture intimation to the 
same effect. See 1 Cor. xv. 45-50: "The first man 
Adam was made a living soul; the last Adam was 
made a quickening spirit. Howbeit that w T as not 
first which is spiritual, but that which is natural; 
and afterward that which is spiritual. The first 
man is of the earth, earthy; the second man is the 
Lord from heaven. As is the earthy, such are they 
also that are earthy; and as is the heavenly, such are 
they also that are heavenly. And as we have borne 
the image of the earthy, we shall also bear the image 
of the heavenly. Now this I say, brethren, that flesh 



Natural Death. 461 

and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God; nei- 
ther doth corruption inherit incorrnption." 

I am not certain that I comprehend this remark- 
able passage; but one thing seems to be clear — that 
is, that as to his physical nature man was created in 
a corruptible state; he was "of the earth, earthy;" 
he was dust, and ready to be remanded to dust. At 
his creation man was flesh and blood — mere com- 
mon flesh and blood — as to his physical organization, 
and not constituted of material that could inherit 
the kingdom of God. No doubt there is a measure 
of physical degeneracy, now, due to the fall; but 
even before the fall man's body was flesh and blood, 
only; it was of the earth, and tended to the earth ; 
it was earthy. For this passage goes back to the 
creation of man, and does not describe a condition 
that arose later, merely; it speaks of man as he 
" was made." 

There can scarcely be a doubt, therefore, that man 
was created under the general law of mortality, as 
to his animal nature. 

Are we, then, to understand that death was inevi- 
table? Was man doomed, even if he had not sinned? 
I answer, with emphasis, and without hesitation, 
No! for, 

III. Though created under the law of mortality, man 
icas designed for immortality. 

He was created under physiological conditions 
which identify him with the lower orders of animals, 
and especially in those particulars which involve the 
fact of mortality, and which clearly show that he 
was under the same law of dissolution; but that he 



462 Natural Death. 

was not destined for such a fate we gather from sev- 
eral considerations. 

1. Though identified with the lower orders in his 
physical constitution, there is yet that in his 'physique 
which indicates a vast superiority. This superiority 
is not seen in either the quality of strength or of 
agility. In both these respects he has many supe- 
riors, as also in bulk. The facts in which his superi- 
ority is found are of a very different class. Xor does 
it appear in quicker or more acute sensation. In 
some of the senses there are dumb brutes that have 
the advantage of him. But he has an organism 
which fits him for higher destinies than they. 

Take his hand, for instance. You see in that 
wonderful organ the agriculturist, the architect, the 
artisan, the artist. The human arm is a scepter of 
dominion over the world. With the hand, simple as 
its construction is, man grasps nature, and brings out 
of it all the physical conditions of civilization. So 
perfectly are its several parts adjusted to each other, 
and contrived for their end, that it subdues the earth 
and fashions matter to the multiform purposes of 
intelligent occupancy and convenience ; it is formed 
both to make and guide the plow, to fashion and to 
push the plane, to construct and manage the most 
complicated machinery, and so to bring earth and 
rock, wood and metal, into shapes and adjustments 
such as supply all the needs and conveniences of 
life; it wields the chisel, and the shapeless marble is 
transformed into a Venus ; it manipulates the pencil, 
and a paradise is created upon canvas; and so it 
meets the higher demands of taste and sentiment, 



Natural Death. 463 

evoking their most delicate expression from com- 
monest and coarsest things; it builds ships and ad- 
justs magnets, and, behold! man dominates the 
ocean : it levels mountains, fills valleys, spans conti- 
nents with iron rails, and he lords it over space: it 
strings a wire alone: over the land and under the 
ocean, and he converses with his neighbor on the 
other side of the earth; it seizes the pen. and the 
thought of ages stands before vou in your library; 

O cr it. t/ ' 

it creates type and press, and the rivulets of litera- 
ture swell into rivers, and flood the world. This 
one part of man's material organization shows him 
as standing to nature in a relation of superiority not 
approached by any of the lower orders. The con- 
structive powers of the ant, the bee. the bird, and the 
beaver, bear no comparison to the handiwork of man. 
Their work is perfect after its kind; but in each 
case it is limited to one kind, and that is done always 
just in the one way. The bee builds nothing but 
hexagonal cells, and, in every instance, of the same 
material: his working apparatus is adapted just to 
that and to nothing else. And so every species of 
ant has its one sort of work, and its one way to do 
it; so of birds; so. also, of beavers: and, indeed, if 
there were ever such perfection of intelligence, they 
have no organ for other than just the work they do; 
they have no hand, no instrument so flexible, so 
adaptable, as to be equally facile in any style of 
work. They cannot handle nature beyond the bar- 
rier of a very narrow limit. 

Over them, also, indeed, as over material sub- 
stances, man rules by the same scepter. He has the 



464 Natural Death. 

upper hand of them; he lassoes them, bridles them, 
halters them, saddles them, harnesses them, goads 
them, with his hand; without it his lordship over 
them could never be maintained. He would make a 
poor fist of it in any effort to maintain his supremacy 
if this imperial instrument were wanting; but with 
it he is the throned monarch of the world. 

To say the least, this organ singles him out as 
being designed for destinies incomparably higher 
than those of any other species of living creature 
upon the earth; it indicates for him a sphere of em- 
ployment so much higher, and a range of activities 
so much wider and more various, as to remove him 
out of their category and set him in exceptional and 
solitaiw' dignity and distinction; it removes him to 
such an elevation as to justify the expectation of 
singular and exalted destinies in his case. 

J^ot less remarkable and distinguishing are the 
capacities and functions of the human voice. It is 
as diverse from all other voices as if it had been in- 
tended for a different world — as, no doubt, it was. 
For variety of sounds and power of expression it 
can be compared with any other only in the way of 
contrast. 

In music it so far surpasses any other voice, or any 
instrument, that none can be named in connection 
with it. From the lowest guttural bass to the trill 
of highest pitch it sweeps the whole range of melo- 
dies with a sweetness, an expression, and a pathos, 
all its own. 

It is the most perfect vehicle of emotion. Every 
different sensibility of the human soul has its pe- 



Natural Death. 465 

culiar tone. Grief and joy, love and hatred, com- 
passion and revenge, humility and pride, may each 
express itself perfectly by the tone, without a spoken 
word, and each expresses the degree of its intensity. 

Its power of varied articulation is inconceivable — 
for aught I know it may be infinite — so flexible, so 
perfect is the vocal apparatus. Take all possible 
vowel, and consonant, and guttural sounds, and in 
all their possible combinations, and all variations of 
tone, and inflection, and emphasis, in which they 
may be uttered, with every shade of difference in 
swell and cadence, in force, in melody, and in every 
conceivable particular of variety and difference, in 
every respect, and you shall find that human speech, 
considered in its merely physical aspects, might fur- 
nish matter of study for a life-time. 

Hear it in the whisper, the common tone, the call, 
the outcry, the shout, the shriek; hear it stating 
facts, explaining, arguing, insisting, exhorting, be- 
seeching, pleading, wooing, cooing, coaxing, chuck- 
ling, exulting, laughing, expostulating, warning, 
affirming, denying, scolding, reproving, command- 
ing, rebuking, condemning, approving, commending, 
complimenting, criticising, carping, cajoling, ban- 
tering, complaining, correcting — with an adapted 
tone for every various purpose of speech. How 
every several tone affects you — pleases you, vexes 
you, worries you, thrills you, alarms you, soothes 
you, enraptures you, rouses you, wins you! 

A wondrous thing is this human voice! Its be- 
stowment presages highest ends of being. He who 
is endowed with it is surely of no class of ephemera; 
20* 



466 Natural Death. 

he was not created to play a part upon a puppet 
stage, and pass away. If in one department of his 
being he ranks with "dumb driven cattle," it must 
be only in a germinal stage of his career; if he is a 
worm, he is no mere worm, but ready to be trans- 
formed; and no revelation of the Creator's purpose 
elevating him above the reach of death can take us 
by surprise, so distinguished is he by this one func- 
tion above the brutes that perish. 

But this distinction appears, farther, in the range 
of his physical wants and in their susceptibility of 
cultivation and extension. For food, and drink, and 
shelter, and fuel, and clothing, and labor, and recre- 
ation, the domain of nature is laid under contribution 
to its full capacity. Minerals, soils, rocks, vegetable 
products, and dumb brutes, all contribute to house, 
clothe, and feed him, and furnish him with means of 
labor. Under chemical treatment he extorts a thou- 
sand uses, alimentary, medicinal, luxurious, from the 
crude substances at his command. 

The capacity to develop and multiply wants dis- 
tinguishes him in a most striking way, and puts him 
into universal relationship with nature. The savage 
can subsist from the resources of his native forest, 
but the civilized man collects his feast from four con- 
tinents and a thousand islands of the sea. Equato- 
rial heats mature his fruits and spices, and the waters 
of Newfoundland breed his fishes, while Arctic infu- 
soria fatten his whales; the cotton of the South, the 
flax of higher latitudes, and the furs of Labrador 
and Alaska, cover his person with convenient vari- 
ety of adaptation for comfort and ornament, in win- 



Natural Death. 467 

ter and in summer; even a disgusting worm spins 
the attenuate thread from which he weaves his cost- 
liest fabrics, and insects gather for him the most 
delicious sweets. All nature conspires to serve him, 
and the range of his cultivated wants is sufficient to 
demand the universal contribution. 

Another striking distinction of man in his phys- 
ical structure, and one often mentioned, is his erect 
posture. He carries his head aloft, as if in proof of 
an imperial nature. His body is the fit vehicle of a 
noble life; it hints a heavenward destiny. Add to 
this the majesty of his brow, the supremacy of his 
eye, and the wonderful power of expression in the 
facial lines, and you have a material organization so 
diverse from aught else, and so immeasurably supe- 
rior, as to be the prophecy and assurance of a nobler 
destiny — of a purpose of his Creator that contem- 
plates too wide a range to be realized in the meager 
opportunities of a mortal state. He lifts his face 
and fronts the universe with a port and bearing 
that assert celestial kinships, and give expectation 
of release from the lowly affinities of his incipient 
state. He was created of the earth, but ordained for 
heaven. 

2. In addition to the marvelous physical superi- 
ority of man, there is the greatest marvel of all — the 
intellectual and spiritual nature — expressed in the 
understanding, the reason, the sensibilities, the con- 
science, the will. 

Such an instrument as the human hand must have 
existed in vain if there had been no rational mind to 
use it; but the rational mind finds only its lowest 



468 Natural Death. 

employment in inspiring the labors of the hand; it 
grasps nature in perception and reduces it by anal- 
ysis, thus creating science; it traces the deepest in- 
timations of existence, its most subtle relations and 
sublimest suggestions, and constructs philosophy; 
it establishes the dominion of intelligence so widely 
as to give assurance of undeveloped capacity for 
cosmic sweep of activity and control. Already he 
has extorted some of their secrets from the fixed 
stars, incomprehensibly distant from him as they are. 
Even those remote abysses of space, in which the 
angle is reduced so as to bring massiest suns, im- 
measurably removed from each other, into mere 
nebulous patches of undistinguished light, yield up 
to him the mysteries of their nature. 

The name of God, written in mystic hieroglyph 
in the heavens and in the earth, he at last spells out 
and comprehends. Conscience is awakened in him; 
he realizes the Creator, and in realizing him comes 
to the sense of moral obligation; he is in hallowed 
relations with the Infinite; he comes to know the 
meaning of the word holy; sacred things disclose 
their divinest significance to him; he has faith; he 
hears inaudible voices, and sees the Invisible. 

Toward nature, and man, and God, he experiences 
the deepest sensibilities; he finds beauty for the eye, 
and music for the ear, and love for the heart, and in 
himself the most exquisite susceptibility to all. 

In the midst of all this complex consciousness lies 
the spring and source of all activities and energies — 
the will. He was made not only to know, and rea- 
son, and feel, but to achieve; he projects himself 



Natural Death. 469 

upon nature, and produces results. He was made to 
accomplish ends, both with respect to himself and 
others — to bring about conditions of good. 

Finding a being so endowed created under the law 
of mortality, we must suppose that under the hand 
of a beneficent Creator he would soon be lifted to a 
higher plane, and relieved of a condition so low. 
Surely he will not be left to take his lot with "the 
beasts that perish." Why he was created in phys- 
ical conditions so mean we may not know; but if 
we should find the purpose and method of his speedy 
elevation out of it, it would but be what we should 
expect; nor in this would the method differ from 
what we see in many things in nature. Existence, 
in its first forms, is often but rudimental, and the ru- 
dimental condition gives scarce a hint of the coming 
glory. We are not surprised, therefore, to find re- 
vealed, 

IV. The 'purpose and means of counteracting the 
effect of the law of mortality under which he was created. 

The means provided was the tree of life. 

I repudiate, with emphasis, the supposition that 
the first chapters of the book of Genesis are allegor- 
ical. They have all the marks of genuine history. 
There is no break between them and the later por- 
tions which are acknowledged by all to be historical. 
The entire account of the creation, of Eden, of the 
temptation, of the first sin, and of the expulsion from 
the garden, is a narrative of actual facts. In this 
narrative is the account of the tree of life. 

What was the purpose of it? Clearly this: that, 
partaking of its fruit, man would experience physical 



470 Natural Death. 

changes which would render his body immortal — 
such changes as would bring his body into the same 
condition as that of the resurrection body. It would 
have been the same change as that which will be 
effected in the bodies of those who will be still living 
at the time of the general resurrection. Of them the 
apostle says, They "shall be changed" and "caught 
up together" with those who shall then be raised in 
an immortal state, to "meet the Lord in the air." 
He " shall change our vile body, that it may be fash- 
ioned like unto his glorious body." 

That any fruit eaten should produce such a won- 
derful effect may seem incredible at first blush. But 
is it incredible? Do we not know enough of chem- 
ical and vital changes to render it altogether reason- 
able that God could create a substance having that 
wonderful vital potency? Ko doubt of it. We are 
assured that that very change will take place, by 
some means, in the resurrection; and if by some 
means, then by any that the Infiuite Creator might 
see lit to ordain. There is nothing in this to stag- 
ger faith. "Why should it be thought a thing in- 
credible with you that God should raise the dead?" 
Why should it be thought a thing incredible that 
God, who made man mortal, should have found 
means to raise him to a condition of immortality? 

That the fruit of the tree of life was designed to 
produce this effect is evident from the fact that we 
have the divine declaration that even after he sinned 
if man had partaken of it he would have lived for- 
ever. For this reason he was expelled from the gar- 
den, and for this reason the way of the tree of life 



Natural Death. 471 

was guarded against him by angels with a flaming 
sword; for after he fell, and was brought under the 
provisions of the plan of salvation, it suited the 
divine purpose to remand him to the dust from 
which he had been taken; and so, shut out from the 
tree of life, he was left under the dominion of the 
law of mortality, under which he had been created. 

If man was created immortal, there could have 
been no conceivable object of that tree. Upon no 
other hypothesis than that I have laid down can any 
rational account of its existence be given; but upon 
this hypothesis all is plain and rational. Man was 
created under the law of mortality, and in that state 
put upon his probation. If he had stood the proba- 
tionary test, then, at the close of the term, upon 
some divine suggestion, or perhaps upon the prompt- 
ing of an appetite that would be felt at the right 
moment, he would have resorted to the tree of life. 
By the proper, natural effect of this fruit the deepest 
physical changes would have taken place; his body 
would have become a " spiritual body," such as all 
the saints in glory shall have after the resurrection, 
and he would doubtless have been removed to a 
higher state. 

But why should man have been created under the 
law of mortality, with provision to countervail its 
effect? Why should he not rather have been created 
immortal? Suppose we cannot answer? There are 
a thousand things we do not understand. The every- 
day world is full of unsolved and, to us, insoluble 
mysteries. We may believe that this mortal state 
was adapted to a probationary condition, or we may 



472 Natural Death. 

suppose that he was created with prevision of the 
fall. This last suggestion does not necessarily in- 
volve the doctrine of predestination ; it may be true, 
and I see no insuperable objection to it. It is suffi- 
cient, however, for us to inquire in what state man 
was created, and what we see to be the fact we must 
accept, whether we are able to comprehend God's 
reasons or not; his facts we are bound to accept. 

Upon any other theory than that which I have 
given the tree of life stands in the garden for noth- 
ing; it serves no purpose; it is a supernumerary 
fact; its introduction into the narrative is inexplica- 
ble. But of the truth of this theory I have scarcely 
a doubt, and this theory furnishes a natural place for 
the tree. 

Since I first gave publicity to this view I find that 
so distinguished a man as Hitchcock, in his book on 
" Religion and Geology," has suggested substantially 
the same theory of the functions of the tree of life. 

It is, then, evident that, though created in a mor- 
tal condition, man was designed for immortality, and 
the means of securing that end was provided. It 
follows, 

V. That though natural death was not the penalty of 
sin, its actual occurrence was a consequence of sin. 

It is not the penalty of sin; for the penalty is the 
destruction of the man, soul and body, in hell, and 
not the mere separation of the soul and body — a 
state into which the redeemed enter as well as those 
who are lost. But it is a consequence of sin; for 
God had provided that man should not die. It is 
not, however, a direct, but an indirect, result of sin. 



Natural Death. 473 

If the direct consequence of sin had not been ar- 
rested by the provision* of a Redeemer, man would 
have sunk into hell, and that, perhaps, after having 
eaten of the fruit of the tree of life, so as to become 
immortal. But the direct stroke was averted for the 
time; the plan of salvation was introduced; a second 
probation was secured for man, in his fallen and de- 
praved state; the whole economy of the divine gov- 
ernment was adjusted to the condition of a fallen 
and redeemed creature; the administration was a 
departure from the ordinary processes of govern- 
ment. Hitherto good and evil had been kept apart 
by a strictly just penal administration; now, the 
Atonement is provided; now, mercy has place; 
processes of recovery are provided for the lost; de- 
praved men have a day of grace; they are allowed 
to live on the earth, though in sin, that they may have 
space to repent. 

The necessary consequence of this is a condition 
of mixed good and evil in the world. There is evil, 
for man is depraved ; there is good, for he lives under 
the provisions of grace, and every man has the op- 
portunity of repentance and recovery from his lost 
condition. 

This condition of things is an anomaly in the his- 
tory of the universe; and at the end of this admin- 
istration, so exceptional, so anomalous, there will be 
a day of judgment, in which the whole period and 
every individual case will pass under revision in the 
presence of the assembled universe of intelligent 
beings, and God's administration of the affairs of 
the earth, in its plan, and in all its details, in every 



474 Natural Death. 

individual case, will be fully justified in the presence 
of all his creatures. 

To this condition of mixed good and evil, under the 
■plan of salvation, natural death belongs. "By man 
came sin into the world, and death by sin " — natural 
death — not directly, as a penalty, but indirectly, as a 
consequence. It was not the immediate consequence 
of sin, but a more remote consequence — a part of 
that modified condition which supervened upon the 
fall and the redemption; for it was after both the fall 
and the promise of redemption that man was remitted 
to the law of mortality, by being removed from ac- 
cess to the tree of life. It was after the fall and after 
the promise of redemption that God said, "Dust thou 
art, and unto dust shalt thou return." 

When the probation of any individual man ends 
he dies, and that is the disposition which God makes 
of him from the end of his probationary term until 
the day of judgment; the soul is separated from the 
body, and the body returns to dust. No doubt, 
penal sufferings begin with the wicked immediately 
after death — possibly, sometimes, even before; but 
natural death is not, in its proper nature, any part 
of them ; for the righteous, also, die. In the case of 
the wicked, sin is on them in the moment of death, 
and that is the sting of death; for the righteous, death 
is death, but it has no sting. 

I repeat it, Natural death is simply a part of the 
mixed condition of good and evil that supervened 
upon the fall and the redemption, and is the disposi- 
tion which God makes of each man, from the end of his 
period of probation to the time of the final judgment. 



Natural Death. 475 

VI. Suffering, in the condition of mixed good and 
ecil in which man now exists, is not penal, but disciplin- 
ary and corrective. 

We are not now in a state of retribution, but of 
probation under a system of redeeming agencies, 
and the sufferings we undergo are the chastenings 
of a corrective discipline. This is the doctrine of 
the New Testament Scriptures. Whatever may be 
the fact with regard to brute beasts, I cannot doubt 
that in man's case physical evil is the effect of spir- 
itual evil — suffering is due to sin; but at present we 
suffer under the reign of grace, and every thing that 
comes to us is designed to bring us to Christ. 

There maybe a penal significance in the suffering 
of the man who, in perverse impenitency, defeats the 
gracious purpose in his own case; but the design is 
gracious and saving in every instance. Death, in- 
deed, ends probation, and, in the immediate fact, 
cannot conduce to the salvation of him who suffers 
it; but the solemn approach to it and its universal 
presence in the world are well calculated to produce 
that effect. Surely it was designed for this very 
purpose, and in thousands of instances conduces 
powerfully to that repentance which is unto life. 

The whole course of human suffering, culminat- 
ing in death, which is the end of all opportunity of 
repentance, is a most potential agency of grace. It 
sets the folly of sin in a clear, strong light, and is 
adapted by divine wisdom to a probationary state in 
the peculiar circumstances that man is now in. His 
probation contrasts strongly with that of the first 
man in his innoccnev, and even then his fears were 



476 Natural Death. 

appealed to; how much more now, when the more 
generous motives are blunted by a depraved condi- 
tion! It is necessary to startle him by pain, and 
warn him by the approach of the destroyer. 

But, you reply, if death belongs to a corrective, 
-and not a punitive, order of things, why should it be 
personified as an enemy? That can be no enemy 
which contemplates a beneficent effect. 

The answer is plain. In a diseased condition, cura- 
tive processes are often painful in the extreme; the 
dose is restorative in its ultimate purpose, but revolt- 
ing in its first effect. The surgeon's knife, which 
removes the gangrened member, performs a work of 
beneficence — it saves life; yet the edge of it has ever 
the aspect of an enemy to the sufferer. "Now no 
chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but 
grievous; nevertheless, afterward it yieldeth the 
peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which 
are exercised thereby." Though in the reign of 
grace evil is subdued to purposes of good, and every 
pang is made to play a part in the ministry of grace 
and life, yet the torture is none the less to present 
sensibility. Evil is an enemy in the present anguish 
of its effect, even when it serves the ends of grace. 

Our world is full of enemies — no mere specters, 
but foes of mighty prowess, and in full armor; their 
frightful aspect startles us at every turn ; the earth 
is overrun with them. The powers of darkness in- 
vade every scene and pillage every heart — 
They throng the air, and darken heaven, 
And rule this lower world. 

It is, therefore, true that, 



Natural Death. 477 

VII. Though death is not penal, it is, in a very solemn 
sense, an enemy. 

Its approach is preluded by pain and terror; its 
presence is accompanied by the agonies of separa- 
tion; our very nature revolts at it; it violates nature. 
Mature is life, and death assails it — does it violence. 
Though a gracious end is contemplated in its rav- 
ages, they are ravages none the less. But, 

VIII. The Destroyer of death has come. 
Everywhere, and in all ages, man has felt himself 

the helpless prey of innumerable and insatiable ene- 
mies; everywhere, and in all ages, humanity has 
cried out for a champion. Conscious of unseen and 
malignant hosts pressing upon him on all sides, and 
beleaguering him in every retreat, in his despair he 
cries out for the advent of supernal powers — gods 
or demigods — to take his part and destroy his de- 
stroyers. The work of Theseus and of Hercules 
must be done; monsters must be exterminated; the 
hydra must be destroyed; man must be delivered 
from the ^invasion of malignant powers. Ail my- 
thology is an utterance of man's sense of impotency 
in the presence of diabolical enmities; it is his dim 
vision of the awful truth. "Without the light of 
revelation he sees these malignant forms in mists 
and fogs, through a distorting medium, and in gro- 
tesque shapes, all the more appalling for the imper- 
fect vision in which they appear. But they are not 
mere apparitions — they are actual and insatiable 
powers of darkness; and still, to this day, humanity 
shudders before their awful aspect. 

But, blessed be God, One mighty to save has en- 



478 Natural Death. 

tered the arena! The Son of God has championed 
our cause; single-handed, against the malignant 
horde of hell, he fronts them in man's behalf, and 
puts "all enemies under his feet;" before the ma- 
jestic aspect of his brow they fall. But even for 
him it is no mere child's play; it is a fierce, yea, a 
bloody, conflict. At the outset, and for a moment, 
he himself went clown, covered with blood; his vis- 
age was marred more than any man, and his counte- 
nance more than the sons of men. But, mustering 
the resources of Godhead, he came up again to the 
dread encounter; yet how strong the enemy! For 
near two thousand years he has kept the field against 
the Son of God. Intrenched in the depravities of 
the human heart, and sheltered under the ramparts 
of the perverse human will, he maintains a desper- 
ate defense against the advancing Conqueror. 

But "all enemies" shall be put under him. That 
old serpent, the devil, and death, and hell, and sin, 
shall be cast down into the lake of fire ; and death — 
death, in its lower, physical expression — natural 
death, shall be abolished; for he "hath abolished 
death, and hath brought life and immortality to 
light through the gospel;" "and there shall be no 
more death." 

IX. The destruction of death will be the final achieve- 
ment of Messiah. 

The resurrection of the dead will end the conflict. 
In that stupendous event the arena will be cleared; 
the field will be swept of the last enemy. " The re- 
demption of the body" is the last fact in the recov- 
ery of redeemed men from all the consequences of 



Natural Death. 479 

the fall. When the grasp of death upon their flesh 
is broken, the last vestige of the unhappy conse- 
quences of sin, so far as they are concerned, will dis- 
appear. It is not of the wicked that the apostle 
speaks here. Natural death will be destroyed for 
them, too — for they will be raised from the dead; 
but the resurrection will be no release nor relief for 
them — they will be raised to a more dreadful doom. 
But for them who believe on his name the resurrec- 
tion will be the end of evil; for them death will be 
forever dead — his overthrow will be the last stroke 
of the great Champion and Deliverer, the last tri- 
umphant blow in behalf of his oppressed people. 
Then the chains of death will fall off, and the pris- 
oners of the grave go free; the cry of a child at the 
couch of a dying mother will be heard no more; the 
wail of the wife gazing upon her dead husband and 
her orphaned children shall rend the air no more; 
never again shall a broken-hearted father, in con- 
vulsive sobs, exclaim, "O my son, my son! would 
God I had died for thee! " The tears shall be wiped 
away from their faces, neither shall there be any 
more crying, nor sorrow, nor any pain; for the 
former things are passed away. 

Then the saved of the Lord shall " enter in through 
the gates into the city," and "have right to the tree 
of life." "In the midst of the street of it, and on 
either side of the river, was there the tree of life." 

Man is in the garden of delights again, with no 
flaming sword-point thrusting him back from the 
tree. He plucks the fruit, and eats, and feasts, and 
luxuriates, in the fullness of eternal life. 



480 Natural Death. 

He triumphs in life. The crowned Conqueror of 
death gives his people a crown of life. Victors over 
death through him, they reign with him in life for 
evermore. Their hold of life is not feeble and du- 
bious, as now; but, assured in the title of a divine 
conquest, they are regnant in the realm of life, 
"heirs of eternal life," "heirs of God, and joint 
heirs with Jesus Christ." 



The Lord's Messenger. 481 



the Jjord'a Jtaenpr. 



SERMON XV. 

" Behold, I Av.ill send my messenger, and he shall prepare the 
way" before me." Mai. iii. 1. 

JOKtf THE BAPTIST was an itinerant preacher. 
" He came into all the country about Jordan, 
preaching.'' 

He was a popular preacher — that is to say, his 
preaching commanded the ear of the masses of the 
people; but you are not to understand that he was 
popular in any low sense of that word. I doubt if 
he was what your complacent critics would call a 
"good speaker." j^o one would think of describ- 
ing his sermons by the epithet ''beautiful." I can- 
not suppose that he had ever concerned himself 
about the art of oratory; and as to any trick of ora- 
tory, it were profane to think of it in connection 
with his preaching. He was the Lord's messenger, 
and was too full of his message to think of attitudes, 
and gestures, and inflections, and rounded periods. 
His hearers would not go away saying, " What a 
tine sermon!" but "What sliall we do?" 
21 



482 The Lord's Messenger. 

I feci, upon reflection, that I have done the old 
messenger a wrong. Popular — the word has an im- 
pertinent sound when applied to such a man. 

He had one theme: " Repent ye; for the kingdom 
of heaven is at hand." 

The people were in expectation of the coming 
"kingdom," and he who announced it now already 
at hand had the key to the national heart. But he 
not only aroused the national enthusiasm by an- 
nouncing the kingdom so long expected as at hand: 
he also denounced them as in a state unfit for its 
coming. Repent! prepare yourselves! lest the King 
should come to you in your sins. 

They had been looking for the promised kingdom 
merely as the restoration of the national independ- 
ence; it had for them merely apolitical significance; 
but John taught them that its coming required 
them to forsake their sins. 

An indescribable awe filled their hearts. One 
word gave tone to all his preaching — Repent. That 
word made the nation tremble ; it smote the ear with 
a divine power; conscience cried out under every 
stroke; the soul discovered its pollutions. Repent! 
The word was tricked out with no elocutionary art; 
it just came in its native, divine import. 

The man of God traversed the wilderness reiter- 
ating the word Repent, and his very life and aspect 
gave a deeper meaning to the word. "His meat 
was locusts and wild honey." He was clothed with 
a single loose garment of the coarsest stuff, fastened 
about him with a strap of raw-hide. "And John 
was clothed with camel's hair, and with a girdle of 



The Lord's Messenger. 483 

a skin about his loins." Mark i. 6. He was not of 
this world; he was a prophet, and more than a 
prophet; he was the last and greatest prophet; he 
was the voice in the wilderness, crying, "Prepare ye 
the way of the Lord." He is the messenger going 
before the face of the Lord. 

"And there went out unto him all the land of Ju- 
clea, and they of Jerusalem, and were all baptized of 
him in the river of Jordan, confessing their sins" — 
so wide-spread and profound was the effect of his 
ministry. Men, indeed, "mused in their hearts of 
John, whether he were the Christ or not," and "the 
Jews sent priests and Levites from Jerusalem" — a 
formal commission — "to ask him, "Who art thou?" 

After a time he established himself at a certain 
place, and such was his power over the people that 
they flocked to him in countless multitudes, to hear 
him and be baptized by him, and were ready, be- 
yond all doubt, to accept him even as Messiah. For 
himself, however, "he confessed, and denied not; 
but confessed, I am not the Christ." "When pressed 
with the question, Who art thou? "he said, I am 
the voice of one crying in the wilderness, Make 
straight the way of the Lord, as said the Prophet 
Esaias." 

My purpose is to show how John prepared the way 
of the Lord — in what way his ministry was a prepa- 
ration for Christ. 

1. The ministry of John was itself a fulfillment of 
jirophecy, and, as such, contributes to the complete- 
ness of prophetic testimony to the claims of Christ. 

The number and definiteness of the predictions 



484 The Lord's Messenger. 

concerning our Saviour are important considera- 
tions. The fulfillment of a single prediction might 
be disposed of by rational criticism, especially if the 
prediction were not at all circumstantial, and if the 
event did not answer very fully and exactly to the pre- 
diction, but only in a general and an indefinite way. 
But a large number of events given in prophecy, 
and realized circumstantially in their proper relation 
to each other, and in the predicted order of time, in 
the fulfillment, constitute a species of proof that 
must carry conviction to every candid mind; no 
criticism can break the force of it. 

Every additional event, therefore, that enters into 
the Messianic prophecies adds greatly to the con- 
vincing power of the proof of the divine mission of 
our Lord; for the improbability of the fulfillment of 
all the prophecies concerning him is vastly aug- 
mented by every additional prophetic fact. One or 
two facts, which a false prophet should venture to 
announce, might find something corresponding to 
them in coming ages; but four or five events given 
by the prophet, with descriptive accuracy, and in a 
given relation to each other as to time and place, if 
they shall answer to the prophecy in every particu- 
lar, must convince the world of the fact that the pre- 
diction came from a fountain of divine knowledge. 

False prophets are, therefore, chary of their facts, 
and careful to give them in an enigmatical form of 
statement; but the prophecies concerning Christ are 
numerous, and are delivered with a fearless variety, 
as to time, and place, and circumstances, which 
would render any well-defined fulfillment impossi- 



The Lord's Messenger. 485 

ble if they were but the hap-hazard vaticinations of 
a hair-brained fanatic, or the adventurous guesses of 
the impostor. 

The circumstance of a predicted messenger going 
before Messiah, to prepare his way, adding as it does 
to the complexity of the net- work of prophetic 
events, renders fulfillment the more impossible upon 
the hypothesis of the uninspired character of the 
prophets, and at the same time constitutes, in case 
of fulfillment, an unanswerable proof at once of the 
inspiration of the seer and of the truth of the vision. 
~No man who believes in the inspiration of the 
prophets can doubt the divinity of Christ. 

As an additional link, then, in the chain of ful- 
filled prophecy, the ministry of John tends to prepare 
the way of Christ. 

But he prepares the way of the Lord even yet 
more fully and effectually in the various functions of 
his own peculiar office. 

2. The preaching of John was such as properly pre- 
ceded that of Christ. 

Christ was to announce the great fact of the new 
birth; John preached repentance. The relation be- 
tween the two is plain and evident: the law goes 
before the gospel ; Moses precedes Christ ; the teach- 
ing of repentance anticipates the doctrine of the new 
birth. In other words, the ministry of John pre- 
pares the way for the ministry of Christ. 

It would be but casting pearls before swine to an- 
nounce the new birth in a world of depraved men, 
who had never been convinced of sin — men whose 
depravity had never been so much as touched by 



486 The Lord's Messenger. 

an}' compunction — men in whom the inveteracy of 
natural evil had never been softened, and whose 
conscience had never been awakened to repentant 
sensibility. The sense of sin must precede the con- 
scious want of a new life; we must know the evil 
of our own nature before we can feel the need of a 
change; the dispensation of repentance must go be- 
fore the dispensation of the new birth. 

True, repentance had been taught before John, as 
the work of grace had been taught by prophets be- 
fore Christ came; but the mighty fact of the new 
creation was never fully brought into the light until 
the Great Teacher announced it, and gave it its final 
and full expression. So, also, was John, eminently 
above all who had preceded him, the prophet of re- 
pentance. 

Repent — this was the master-word of his minis- 
try. With this one word he shook Judea to its 
center. He dealt with the dreadful fact of human 
sin; this was his theme, and he handled it in no 
empirical way; the treatment was thorough and 
faithful, and the people came almost en masse, and 
submitted themselves to his baptism, confessing their 
sins. He roused the whole nation from its self-com- 
•placent formalism; God's truth was turned with 
focal power upon human corruption, and men saw 
that awful spectacle — their own hearts — for the first 
time. The vision awakened remorse, and prostrated 
them in the dust, in shame and grief. 

God does not temporize with sin. The gospel 
deals with it as a most deadly thing, which is not to 
be palliated nor covered up, but cither punished with 



The Lord's Messenger. 487 

eternal pains or purged away. In the light of the 
gospel, God is implacable toward sin; he gives it no 
place, but brands it as the one thing which he ab- 
hors; it is the one thing upon which he looks with 
infinite hatred; the utmost power of speech fails to 
give adequate expression to the divine loathing of 
it. What torrents of denunciation are poured upon 
it in the Old Testament Scriptures! It is the one 
only thing upon which the wrath of God falls. 

Salvation does not cloak sin, and excuse it with an 
amiable pity and allowance, but destroys it. The 
man in whom it is not exterminated is not saved. 
Though its power could be broken by nothing less 
than the death of the Incarnate Son of God, even 
that was not a sacrifice too great to express the im- 
perious demand for its destruction. Yet sin is not 
extirpated by mere power; its seat is in the will, and 
the will is not carried by force; its choices are made 
in view of motives, and are free; it is addressed by 
motives either through the senses, or through the 
reason, or through faith. The appeal to the will, in 
behalf of sin, is made through the senses; the ap- 
peal in behalf of purity is made through the reason 
and faith; and herein is the philosophy of preach- 
ing. The preacher appeals to reason and faith, 
against the domination' of the sensual nature. All 
effectual preaching is done with the Holy Ghost 
sent down from heaven; for, in a soul already under 
the power of sin, reason and faith are at such disad- 
vantage, as against the senses, that they require the 
touches and quickenings of grace. 

When grace prevails, repentance is the first effect. 



488 The Lord's Messenger. 

Repentance is the soul's revolt against the dominion 
of sin, and its act of submission to God; iu repent- 
ance it turns to God, and, rising at last to the high 
experience in which faith is supreme, it becomes re- 
ceptive of the fullest measures of divine redeeming 
energy, and is transformed into the image of God 
by the mysterious processes of the new birth. The 
Creator recovers the alienated will to himself, not by 
force, but by love; he accomplishes the conquest of 
the soul through reason and faith, by the preaching 
of the cross and the ministry of the Spirit. In the 
nature of the case, repentance is the first form of 
consciousness, in its translation from the kingdom 
of darkness to the kingdom of light, from the power 
of Satan to the service of the living God. It is re- 
pentance that casts off the yoke of the old master, 
and bows the neck to that of the new. 

The ministry of John was, therefore, necessary. 
There must be in the process of the world's redemp- 
tion not only a dispensation of the law, in a distinct 
historical relation to the dispensation of grace, but a 
dispensation of repentance in the same historical re- 
lation — the law, in an impressive announcement and 
publication of it, defining sin and condemning the 
sinner; the distinct and definite demand upon the 
sinner to recognize and bow to the sovereign exac- 
tions of the law in repentance; and last in time, the 
special disclosure of the method of grace, in which 
the full recovery and salvation of the repentant sin- 
ner are provided for and assured. 

The ministry of John has the dignity and impor- 
tance of a dispensation in the grand historical dc- 



The Lords Messenger. 489 

velopment of the plan of salvation. He comes after 
Moses and before Christ. Moses condemns the 
world; John brings it to its knees, self -condemned ; 
Christ, the Son of God, brings it pardon and the new 
life, through his own blood, restoring it at once to 
God and to law. 

3. The ministry of John involved the formality of a 
significant and impressive rite. He committed his dis- 
ciples to the great work of repentance by a solemn 
ablution. This gave his ministry such body and 
force as had great effect. He was no passing de- 
claimer, making an irregular attack on the wicked- 
ness of his times; he had his commission from God, 
and gave form and volume to his work by the public 
washing of his followers with water. 

This rite had a meaning to the Jew which it had 
acquired from the national and ecclesiastical history. 
In a solemn baptism they had their final deliverance 
from Egypt; it was the last act of that tremendous 
drama in which God led them out of bondage, with 
a high hand and with his holy arm; the waters 
parted for them, and, as they passed through the sea 
dry-shod, the clouds in the heavens above them 
"poured out water," while, to give highest effect, 
the terrors of the tempest were added; "the sky 
sent forth a sound." In the midst of such august 
ablutions of nature did God take this people to him- 
self, to be his chosen people. Besides this, the Mo- 
saic ritual contained " divers washings," all of which 
were intended to intimate the holiness of God and 
to symbolize the purity which he requires in those 
who serve him. " Sprinkling the unclean," which 
21* 



490 The Lord's Messenger. 

" sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh," serves to 
exhibit in a sensible way the saving efficacy of grace; 
for "how much more shall the blood of Christ, who 
through the eternal Spirit offered himself without 
spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works, to 
serve the living God?" 

The people who heard John had been reared un- 
der this ritual, and understood the import of these 
washings — these baptisms. From the time when the 
people before Mount Sinai were required to wash 
their garments and purify their persons, because 
God was about to appear and to proclaim the law, 
they had been taught, in every possible form of in- 
struction, that sin is pollution, and that it is infinitely 
odious to God; that it must be cleansed away, or he 
would break forth upon them in all the terrors of 
omnipotent anger. The leper was "unclean," and 
he who touched him was also, by the contact, ren- 
dered unclean. Any dead thing, or any person who 
might touch it, was unclean, and the unclean person 
was to be kept separate and touch no one until he 
had gone through the formal process — the ritual of 
cleansing — until he had "washed himself," in con- 
nection with impressive rites. To a people so trained 
John came, and " preached the baptism of repent- 
ance." They were prepared for his doctrine; the 
"uncleanness" that he charged upon them was sin; 
they must renounce it; they must abandon it; they 
must forsake it utterly; and to make the renovation 
formal, and the reformation binding to the last de- 
gree, they must be "baptized with water." They 
were devoting themselves to a life of purity, and in 



The Lord's Messenger. 491 

so doing submitted themselves to the rite which was 
the symbol of purity — the washing of water. 

4. This man's preaching teas practical. In his doc- 
trine repentance was not a mere sentiment, but a 
change of character, decisive, thorough, radical. 

How he stripped all disguises from the heart of 
the hypocrite, and laid it bare in its rottenness ! " 
generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee 
from the wrath to come?" It was not to the sim- 
ple-hearted common people that he addressed these 
words, but to the Pharisees and the Sadducees — pre- 
tentious, proud, insincere. " Bring forth, therefore, 
fruits meet for repentance;" let a thorough change 
of life prove your sincerity; trust in no vain ground 
of hope; "think not to say within yourselves, We 
have Abraham to our father;" that will do you no 
good; every man must stand in his own character. 
Judgment is at hand; the ax is ready, lying at the 
root of the trees, and " every tree which bringeth not 
forth good fruit is hewn down and cast into the fire." 
There is no alternative but that — repentance and 
fruit meet for repentance, or the fire. The test is 
evermore a practical one. The tree is known by its 
fruit. 

The people said, "What shall we do?" and the 
great prophet of repentance replied, "He that hath 
two coats, let him impart to him that hath none; 
and he that hath meat, let him do likewise." The 
publicans were to cease from their extortions, and 
the soldiers from their violence, falsehood, and dis- 
content. 

He feared the face of no man, but dealt as plainly 



492 The Lord's Messenger. 

with the tetrarch as with any common man, reprov- 
ing him "for Herodias, his brother Philip's wife, 
and for all the evils which Herod had done." This 
cost him his liberty and, at the last, his life. He was 
a martyr in his testimony against sin. It was well; 
for the testimony receives great emphasis from the 
blood shed in support of it. So the greatest of the 
prophets perished only to leave an imperishable 
name. He had done a work for all ages; he had 
prepared the way of the Lord; by the dispensation 
of repentance he had prepared the world for the 
dispensation of life in Christ. 

5. He prepared the way by affirming the infinite supe- 
riority of Christ. 

After he had so profoundly impressed the public 
mind that the people were ready even to receive him 
as Messiah himself, he said : No, I am not the Christ; 
he is coming; he is near; you will see him now, im- 
mediately; he is greater than I — so much greater 
that I am not worthy to unloose the latchet of his 
shoes — to perform the most menial offices about his 
person. Great as they held John to be, he was as 
nothing when compared to the coming One. What, 
then, must that One be? If the voice in the wilder- 
ness had commanded their hearts with such power, 
what must he be of whom the voice was only the 
herald? What must be the glory and exaltation of 
him whose shoes this mighty prophet was not wor- 
thy to carry for him? 

6. But the contrast would appear in the ministry, no 
less than in the person, of Christ. 

"I indeed baptize you with water unto repent- 



The Lord's Messenger. 493 

ance; ... he shall baptize you with the Holy 
Ghost, and with fire." 

It is the difference between the shadow and the 
substance, between the human symbol and the di- 
vine fact. I baptize with water, but he with the 
Holy Ghost; I deal with the material side of things, 
he with the spiritual ; I am a man, he is God; I pre- 
cede him, to express in the outward form the work 
he will do in the inward life; I am a prophet, he is 
the Lord of the prophets, and the End of prophecy. 

How strange it is that in the terminology of so 
many Christian teachers the word baptism should 
be confined to its accidental import! that the work 
of John should be given precedence of the work of 
Christ! " By one Spirit are we all baptized into one 
body." " He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, 
and with fire." Thus he sits as a refiner's fire and 
as a purifier of silver; thus he whose name is called 
Jesus saves his people from their sins. All this, 
indeed, was premtimated in the baptism — the wash- 
ing of water — in which John committed his disci- 
ples to repentance; that is, to a struggle against sin 
— to a supreme effort after purity, which the washing 
represents, and the gift of the Holy Ghost effectu- 
ates. But Christ's baptism is as much greater than 
John's as Christ is greater than John, and as the 
Holy Ghost is greater than water — as much greater 
as the Creator is greater than the thing which he 
has made. So, by putting himself and his ministry 
in contact with Christ and his work, the prophet 
prepares us for the full divine significance of the 
real baptism. Whenever the word is used without 



494 The Lord's Messenger* 

an expletive in the context, or in the text, it ought 
always to he understood of the work of the Holy 
Spirit — the baptism administered by the Lord him- 
self, as in Rom. vi. 3, 4; Col. ii. 12; and Eph. iv. 5. 

John preached repentance, and pledged the peo- 
ple to it in baptism; he could do no more. He was 
the depositary of no creative energies; he could lead 
men toward God, but could never command the 
Spirit; the new creation was beyond his power. 
The work of God can be done by none but God, 
and of that work he was but a human instrument. 
He could not effectuate the soul's renewal in grace; 
he could not command the powers of an endless 
life; his ministry began and ended in "the baptism 
of repentance." From that point he was impotent 
as any other man; he prepared the way, but Christ 
must consummate the work. 

"He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and 
with fire." 

In Christ is the life of men — the eternal life; in 
him all fullness dwells; creative energies reside in 
him; he has the Spirit without measure; lie ap- 
proaches the inward life of men, not by preaching 
only, but by an immediate divine working. He not 
only influences the soul through the media by which 
men influence each other, but touches it at the very 
roots and sources of life. He raises his people from 
spiritual death by the mighty working of the same 
power by which he himself was raised up from the 
dead. He is mighty to save, able to save to the ut- 
termost, all who come to God by him. By the Holy 
Spirit of power he effectuates the grace secured by 



The Lord's Messenger. 495 

the merit of his blood. Having paid the price of our 
redemption, he is now sitting on the right hand of 
power, to bestow the gifts he has bought for man. 
He sends the Comforter, the Holy Spirit, to work in 
man that renewal of his nature without which, even 
though the Lord was crucified, he must perish for- 
ever. 

The work of the Spirit is, indeed, life from the 
dead. Through it all who receive Christ have power 
to become the sons of God; they are "born, not of 
blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of 
man, but of God" — "born again, not of corruptible 
seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which 
liveth and abideth forever." 

This is the new birth ; it is the beginning of a new 
life — life on the spiritual plane. We are constituted 
sons of God, not by adoption only, but by actual re- 
generation and affiliation of nature; we are "made 
partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the cor- 
ruption that is in the world through lust." The 
"old man" — the depraved nature inherited from 
Adam — " is crucified," and the " new man " — that 
is, the Christ-life — is "raised up" in us; Christ is 
formed within, the hope of glory, so that the life 
that we now live in the flesh is not the life of the 
flesh, but of the faith of the Son of God. "I live, 
yet not I, but Christ liveth in me." Christ is formed 
within — that is, the life that is in Christ for men is 
given to us, and becomes the controlling vital power 
of our existence. 

This is the hidden mystery which the ages and 
generations knew not, and which, even now that it 



496 The Lord's Messenger, 

is revealed in Christ, the carnal mind, the natural 
man, does not know, and cannot, for it is " spiritually 
discerned." It is the work of him who, as John an- 
nounced, would baptize men with the Holy Ghost, 
and with lire. The effect of it is holiness in personal 
character — the purgation of human nature from sin. 
Baptism symbolizes it, for water purines; fire sym- 
bolizes it more deeply. What water cannot cleanse, 
lire can ; water cleanses the surface, but fire permeates 
the mass. Adhering taints and stains are removed 
by water; but in metals, base inhering substances 
pervading the mass can be purged away only by fire; 
what it cannot purify it destroys; the crucial test is 
the test of fire. Christ purifies all who receive him 
by a power that is inward, searching, all -subduing, 
like fire; it is the fire of divine love and life. In re- 
pentance and faith the divine transformation takes 
place; Christ is received; sin is destroyed; the "di- 
vine nature" comes in; but where Christ is rejected 
by impenitency and unbelief, the fire destroys. His 
"fan is in his hand, and he will thoroughly purge 
his floor, and gather his wheat into the garner; but 
he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire." 
The fire of God is either a purifying or a consuming 
flame. "Our God" not only "sits as a purifier of 
silver," but is also a " consuming fire." When the 
Holy Ghost fell on the disciples, his symbol was fire: 
"And there appeared unto them cloven tongues, like 
as of fire, and it sat upon each of them; and they 
were all filled with the Holy Ghost." 

7. So, we see, John -prepared the way of Christ by an- 
nouncing and defining the nature of his work. 



The Lord's Messenger. 497 

It is to be observed, especially, and is matter of 
great importance, that John, whose offiee was to in- 
troduce Christ, undertook, in announcing him, to 
define his work. What Christ came for, what he 
had to do in the world, is all summed in that state- 
ment, " He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, 
and with fire/' He came to save men, and in this 
fact personal salvation is effectuated. 

Precisely the equivalent of this is our Lord's own 
announcement of his mission to Nicodemus, who 
had confessed his belief in Christ as a Teacher come 
from God, and w T ho w^as before him in the attitude 
of one inquiring what his doctrine was. The Lord 
answered, without reserve, " Except a man be born 
again, he cannot see the kingdom of God." This 
one sentence suggests, in a compendious form, the 
whole truth .as it is in Jesus. It was as much as 
if he had said, I have come to introduce the king- 
dom of God into the world, and into that kingdom 
no man can enter except he be born of the Spirit; 
but this new birth, by the power of the Spirit, is 
the object of my mission; for I will pour out the 
Spirit upon all ilesh, in a baptism of renovation and 
life. 

So both he and John agree that the baptism of 
the Spirit was the one great work he came to do. 

What this work is, in its moral effect, we have 
already seen; but it remains to be said that the 
character of Christ's work appears in its fullest light 
as it is set in comparison and contrast with John's. 
This contrast is drawn by John himself. The per- 
sonal contrast between John and Christ I have al- 



498 The Lord's Messenger. 

ready given, and also, in some measure, delineated 
the contrast between the mission of the one and the 
other. But let us look at it more definitely. 

The one baptized with water, the other with the 
Holy Ghost, and with fire. 

The one preached repentance; the other an- 
nounced and introduced the divine fact of the new 
birth. 

The one preached the kingdom of heaven at hand; 
the other was the King himself, come to set up the 
kingdom. 

The one dealt with human symbols, the other with 
divine realities. 

The one was the humble messenger, going before 
to prepare the way; the other was the august Son 
of God, for whom the way was prepared. 

John's work, indeed, was great. He had all a 
prophet's power; his voice was an inspired trumpet- 
blast; prophecy culminated in him; he was the focus 
of all the prophetic light that had shined upon the 
world from the beginning, and turned it full upon 
the person of the Lord. But his greatness was not 
in himself; it was only in his relation to Christ. 
His work was nothing except as it revealed the 
coming One, but to do that was the most signal 
honor that ever distinguished a mortal name. He 
stands in history glorified by the flood of radiance 
reflected upon him from the Lord of life; he was 
the immediate herald of him who brought life and 
immortality to light, in a world lying in the wicked 
one. Into a world enveloped in the smoke of the 
pit, where life was canopied by despair, and death 



The Lord's Messenger. 499 

rioted in a feast of souls, the Life was coming, and 
his messenger was the dawn of his approach. 

8. In John prophecy came into actual contact with the 
person of the Redeemer. 

In the midst of a vast concourse Jesus came into 
the presence of John, who pointed him out to the 
people, and exclaimed, "Behold the Lamb of God, 
which taketh away the sin of the world!" The 
prophetic testimony of all the ages fixed on him, and 
would vindicate his claim ; but here the index was 
turned upon his very person, and the chosen mes- 
senger, the chief of all the prophets, singled him 
out and announced him to the world. It was the 
last word of prophecy, whose scattered echoes were 
collected into this voice. 

9. Christ himself was baptized by John, and in the act 
was avouched to be the Son of God. 

John was startled by the demand of Jesus for 
baptism at his hands; that he should baptize the 
Lord seemed to him out of the question. U I have 
need to be baptized of thee, and comest thou to me? " 
How strange! It reverses the order of propriety. 
How calm was the reply of Christ! "Suffer it to be 
so now; for thus it becometh us to fulfill all right- 
eousness." His word, however quiet the utterance, 
was invincible. "Then he suffered him." ' 

"To fulfill all righteousness." These words have 
occasioned no little controversy. Some have sup- 
posed that Christ regarded his baptism as a formal, 
ceremonial induction into the priestly office; but I 
have never been able to see the force of the argu- 
ments given in support of that view. 



500 The Lord's Messenger. 

The truth seems to me to be about this: The in- 
carnate Redeemer submitted to the conditions of 
humanity without reserve. He rendered filial obe- 
dience to Joseph and Mary, thus submitting to do- 
mestic obligations; he paid the tithe, and rendered 
obedience to both ecclesiastical and civil authority; 
he was circumcised, as any Jewish infant ; he fulfilled 
all righteousness, claiming no exemption from any 
obligation. Now, John's baptism was divinely or- 
dained, and, as he was man, he would submit to that, 
as he did to every ordinance of God. 

True, the significance of it in his case was not the 
same as in other cases, but was altogether excep- 
tional and peculiar. He was not ''baptized unto 
repentance;" he was the one sinless Man. What 
the immediate purpose in his case was we are not 
left to conjecture. See John i. 31-34. 

The general object w T as that "he should be made 
manifest to Israel," and several facts conspired to 
this end. 

First. John had been divinely notified that when 
Messiah should come to his baptism the Holy Spirit 
should be seen, in the form of a dove, descending 
upon him. 

Second. Upon this sign John received him, and 
avouched him to the people. 

Third. The bodily form in which the Spirit de- 
scended was, no doubt, visible to all the people who 
were present. 

Fourth. "The heavens were opened unto him," 
and from above the cleft sky a voice descended, 
"This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well 



The Lord's Messenger. 501 

pleased." Thus tlie Eternal Father avouched him 
to the world. 

Besides this, in the baptism of our Lord the sym- 
bol and the reality touch each other. John i. 33: 
"And I knew him not; but he that sent me to bap- 
tize with water, the same said unto me, Upon whom 
thou shalt see the Spirit descending and remaining 
on him, the same is he which baptizeth with the 
Holy Ghost." Thus the symbolism of John's min- 
istry expressed itself upon the very person of Christ; 
and it was fitting that it should be so. AVhen the 
baptismal waters had come upon him, the Holy 
Spirit also descended on him, indicating that this 
was he who should baptize with the Holy Ghost. 
The shadow and the substance were seen together. 

How thoroughly John had done his work of pre- 
paring the people to receive Christ appears in a 
striking incident. Oar Lord, in a wonderful ex- 
pression of his personal majesty and authority, 
drove out all who had established themselves in the 
temple to sell and buy, and overturned the tables of 
the monev-chan^ers. The miracle of it was that 
they should submit to be driven out by any one 
man. There must have been an immeasurable out- 
going of personal power from him, or they would 
have resisted. ^Vhat right had he, coming from 
Galilee, a mere individual, to interfere with this 
traffic, so convenient to all parties, so lucrative to 
those engaged in it, and established by custom for 
so long as to give it prescriptive right? But they 
cowered and fled before him, unable to withstand 
the majesty of his brow. 



502 The Lord'? Messenget 

The chief priests and elders, however, upon hia 
next appearance in the temple, asked him, " By what 
authority doest thou these things? and who gave 
thee this authority?" He replied, "I also will ask 
you one thing, which if ye tell me, I in like wise will 
tell you by what authority I do these things. The 
baptism of John, whence was it? from heaven, or of 
men? And they reasoned with themselves, saying, 
If we shall say, From heaven, he will say unto us, 
Why did ye not then believe him? but if we shall 
say, Of men; we fear the people; for all hold John 
as a prophet. And they answered Jesus, and said, 
We cannot tell. And he said unto them, Neither 
tell I you by what authority I do these things." 

If they acknowledged John to be a prophet, their 
question was answered; for John authenticated 
Jesus. Surely he whose shoe's latchet John was not 
worthy to unloose had authority to cleanse the tem- 
ple. But such was the hold John had upon the 
people that they dared not deny his inspiration; 
"they feared the people." 

No doubt John's testimony to Christ, and the 
hold he had upon the public mind, explains, in part, 
the rapid spread of the gospel in Jerusalem and Ju- 
dea after the ascension of the Lord. The people 
knew that John had declared Jesus to be the Christ, 
and they "held John to be a prophet." The life 
and miracles of Jesus had confirmed the testimony 
of John. No doubt his death, public and dreadful 
as it was, and occurring at the feast of the passover, 
when so many from all Judea were present to wit- 
ness it, had filled the country with awe. Multitudes 



The Lord's Messenger. 503 

were* in a state of mind most favorable to the an- 
nouncement that he had been raised from the dead. 
In a few weeks the Church in Jerusalem numbered 
five thousand, while the word of God grew mightily, 
and prevailed. Very soon the city was filled with 
the doctrine. Still " believers were the more added 
to the Lord, multitudes both of men and women." 
A multitude of sick, out of the cities round about 
Jerusalem, came and were healed. Still a little later, 
"the number of the disciples multiplied in Jerusa- 
lem greatly ; and a great company of the priests were 
obedient to the faith." To what extent the influ- 
ence of John's ministry had prepared the public 
mind for this instant reception of Christ of course 
we cannot know, but that it was an important factor 
there can be no doubt. He had, indeed, effectually 
prepared the way of the Lord. 

How ready John's disciples were to accept Christ 
is evident from the case of Apollos (Acts xviii. 24- 
26), and also from the case of the twelve disciples 
whom Paul found at Ephesus, who had been bap- 
tized " unto John's baptism." Acts xix. 1-7. These 
all received the gospel with the utmost readiness 
and docility, being prepared by the influence of 
John. 

Humanly speaking, this eminent success of the 
gospel, at the very first, in Judea and Jerusalem, 
was of the greatest importance. Christianity was 
just now beginning the invasion of the world, and 
the campaign opened gloriously. These first victo- 
ries inspired every soldier, and gave great moral 
force. The movement acquired such momentum as 



504 The Lord's Messenger. 

made it irresistible. It instantly gathered resources 
sufficient to support the boldest and most advent- 
urous enterprises; it established itself upon a base 
of operations from which it might reach the ends of 
the earth; it enlisted recruits who would be chief- 
tains to bear its banner in triumphant combat 
throughout the world. The greatest and most re- 
nowned of all was Saul of Tarsus. To whatever 
extent the ministry of John prepared Judea for these 
achievements, the Church is indebted to him in all 
time for the momentum which gave it sufficient im- 
pulse to match and subdue its enemies, and to estab- 
lish itself permanently in the world as the greatest 
moral force of society. 

To the personal fortunes of the great messenger 
the Christian heart can never be indifferent. lie 
was in the public eye but a short time. The word 
of God came to him in his obscurity in the wilder- 
ness, and under its irrepressible impulse he emerged 
into power, and became at once the most conspicu- 
ous figure in all Syria; but upon the baptism of the 
Lord he immediately fell back into comparative ob- 
scurity. Removing from Bethabara to Enon, he still 
preached and baptized; but Jesus "made and bap- 
tized more disciples than John," and "there arose a 
question between some of John's disciples and the 
Jews about purifying" — that is, about the baptism. 
Perhaps the Jews taunted them upon the decadence 
of their master's ministry ; and perhaps, from honest 
curiosity, or possibly with a touch of malice, think- 
ing to excite his jealousy, they "came unto John, 
and said unto him, Rabbi, he that was with thee be- 



The Lord's Messenger. 505 

yond Jordan, to whom thou barest witness, behold, 
the same baptizeth, and all men come to him." 

If he had been a self-conscious man he would 
have manifested a sense of rivalry and some feeling 
of failure and chagrin; but there was never a no- 
bler nature on earth, save that of the Lord whose 
messenger he was. . He lived not for himself, but for 
his Lord; the triumph of Jesus was his triumph. 
He vindicates himself against all suspicion of am- 
bitious motives. John iii. 27-31. What he had re- 
ceived had been given him from heaven. "Ye 
yourselves bear me witness, that I said, I am not the 
Christ, but that I am sent before him." I never put 
forth any, the slightest, personal pretension, as 
though I was the principal figure. No; it is the 
Bridegroom that hath the Bride, and I am only the 
humble friend of the Bridegroom, serving about his 
person. Mine is not the triumph of him who comes 
to take the Bride to himself, but the joy of him, the 
friend and servitor, who hears the Bridegroom's* 
voice. Now I stand and hear the voice of this 
heavenly Bridegroom, come to claim and take the 
Bride. My triumph is in his triumph; my joy is in 
the mightier joy of his voice. He that cometh from 
above is above all; I am only of the earth, and must 
decrease, but he must increase. The friend of the 
bridegroom is nothing after the brief offices of the 
hour have been performed, but passes out of sight 
and leaves the bridegroom the center of all eyes, the 
object of all regard; yet is he there, in a corner, 
unobserved, unthought-of, rejoicing in the bride- 
groom's joy. " This my joy, therefore, is fulfilled." 
22 



506 The Lord's Messenger. 

Noble spirit! consciously nothing, merging thy- 
self so completely into the Lord! 

For a moment we are sad, as we see the great 
prophet pass into the background, but only for a 
moment. Let us congratulate him! The aspira- 
tions of his life are consummated; he lived only to 
make ready for the Bridegroom, and now he has 
come. It is enough; the "friend" is satisfied; the 
long-expected voice is the fruition of his toil. 

In all true and deep experience self is lost in God, 
and there is no better test and standard of the Chris- 
tian life. God is all in all; we are nothing. In the 
deepest experiences of the child of God, he thinks 
nothing of himself, but only of God. Not in his 
own honors and successes does he triumph, but only 
in his all-glorious Lord. 

The hero-prophet went into prison, we may well 
believe, without a sigh. He must decrease; but what 
of that? The Lord had come! and in the prison 
"John heard of his mighty works. Prison-walls 
could not shut out from his ear the voice of the 
Bridegroom; and now he lived only to hear that. 
That voice could turn a dungeon into heaven. 
What a glorious independence is that of the man 
whose happiness is not in time and the things of 
sense, but in God! The loss of money, or health, 
or reputation, or pleasure, is nothing; these are but 
the accidents of his life. God can never be wrested 
from him, and God is the very Source of his life. 

But why this deputation of his disciples to Jesus, 
with the doubt, "Art thou he that should come? or 
look we for another?" Was the doubt his? or was 



The Lord's Messenger. 507 

it only that his disciples required confirmation? 
Possibly, for a moment he was in temptation — for he 
was only a man ; but it seems most likely to me that 
the object was to give assurance to the faith of his 
disciples. The answer was decisive; and we can 
imagine the ineffable peace that fell upon his heart 
with the words, " Tell John " of all the miracles you 
have witnessed, and that " the poor have the gospel 
preached unto them." Perhaps this was the last 
time the Bridegroom's voice fell upon his ear; but 
O it was heavenly sweet ! 

This incident gave occasion to Christ's testimony 
concerning John; for even John did not escape 
criticism. The most austere purity will find envious 
tongues to carp at it. John, with the garment of 
camel's hair, subsisting on insects and the wild 
honey he found in the wilderness, was charged with 
being inspired by a demon. Christ came eating and 
drinking — that is, with divine self-control he en- 
joyed the good gifts of the Father — and they falsely 
said, He is a wine-bibber and a companion of sin- 
ners. Henceforth let Virtue give herself no concern 
to clear herself from the slanders of envious men — 
it is her doom to suffer this. The justification of 
the righteous is with God, and Jesus cleared the 
fame of his faithful servant. True, the slanders 
were light as the babbling, bantering speech of chil- 
dren in the market-place, in responsive accusation 
of each other; yet it was meet that the servant 
should be vindicated by his Lord. 

" What went ye out into the wilderness to see?" 
Only a twelve-month gone you all forsook your 



508 The Lord's Messenger. 

homes — you left your fields and shops, and, with 
your wives and children, flocked pell-mell into the 
wilderness. "What went ye out for to see?" It 
was no rustle of a reed shaken by the wind, but a 
voice which was an echo of God's voice, and which 
dominated your souls with a sovereign and irresist- 
ible tone; it was no elegant lounger about kings' 
palaces, the noblest endeavor of whose genius is to 
dress well, and who " can give his whole mind to 
the fashion of a neck-tie," but a prophet, and more 
than a prophet. The man whose majestic voice had 
caused a moral earthquake in Juclea, and whose 
magnetism had drawn the populace into the wil- 
derness, never twirled a dainty walking-stick, nor 
sported a gold chain. The stuff that he was made 
of was of a texture too divine for such frivolities. 
The puppet of the palace could never call a nation 
into the wilderness. 

Ignominiously, in his cell, and at the malignant 
caprice of a base woman, John perished. The bloody 
head was given to the voluptuous dancing damsel, 
and by her flippantly handed to the wicked mother. 
The calm, dead face was, no doubt, insulted by the 
termagant Herodias and her heartless daughter, and 
then, perhaps, publicly exposed at the palace gate, 
while the headless trunk was reverently borne by 
his disciples to its burial. But neither the tender- 
ness of friends nor the malice of enemies could reach 
the crowned hero, now. He was with God, resting 
from his labors, and to be followed by his works, 
evermore listening to the voice of the Bridegroom. 



The Lord's-day in the Family. 509 



§Irc Jiord'fHlai) in the Jamita. 



SERMON XVI. 

" Keep the Sabbath-day to sanctify it, as. the Lord thy God 
hath commanded thee." Deut. v. 12. 

IN" a household where the Spirit of Christ reigns, 
there are already, on the afternoon of Saturday, 
signs of the approaching Lord's-day. Domestic la- 
bor is anticipated, and, as far as possible, disposed 
of, so that the day of rest and worship may be re- 
lieved, to the utmost extent, of secular cares and 
occupations. Meats are prepared and bread is 
baked, to be served cold on the hallowed day. The 
wardrobe is put in readiness, and the house, as far 
as may be, in order. Thoughtful prearrangement 
anticipates the coming day in every practicable 
way. In the midst of all this, reverent incidental 
remarks drop every here and there from the lips of 
the pious housewife that show how deeply she ap- 
preciates the blessed Sabbath. Thus the holy day 
casts a hallowed, radiant shadow upon the day pre- 
ceding. 

Now all things are prepared. The "six days' 



510 The LorcVs-day in the Family. 

work is clone." The feeling of rest is already appar- 
ent in the aspect and tone of the domestic group at 
the fireside. It has settled at once upon the kitchen 
and the drawing-room. The Bible is in hand. 
The Sunday-school lesson is conned over with ref- 
erence to maps, and commentaries, and Bible dic- 
tionaries. The evening worship is offered, and now 
in the darkened house the inmates fall into repose 
with thoughts of God and his law, and a self-dis- 
trustful hope in Christ mellowing and chastening 
every heart. 

The morning of the first day of the week dawns; 
the family is astir, but there is no haste, no bustle; 
the toilet is made quietly; movements in the kitchen 
and in the dining-room are attended with less noise 
than on other days; the simple repast costs but lit- 
tle labor; the spirit of the fourth commandment 
seems to be diffused through the whole house; the 
morning worship is free from all hurry, and more 
impressive than on common days; God is imminent 
in the scene; the awe of him is upon all hearts — not 
an oppressive, but an elevating and purifying, emo- 
tion. 

There is no talk of prices and per cents at the 
breakfast-table, and no hurrying off to business. 
If the flow of conversation is less free than usual, 
it has better volume, and comes from deeper sources. 
The sewing-machine is off in a remote corner — pat- 
terns and fashion-plates out of sight. Toys and 
playthings are in the closet; and even the house- 
dog moves more leisurely, and has a more quiet 
look, than is his wont. 



The LorcVs-day in the Family. 511 

Among laboring people the change is very marked. 
There is no inexorable demand on this clay for break- 
fast at live o'clock — no uneasy haste to be at the 
scene of toil a mile distant by six, lest wages should 
be docked. The morning repose is a little more 
protracted than on the working days, and the sim- 
ple repast enjoyed more leisurely. The house is in 
better order; both parents and children enjoy a 
change of garments, and have a sense of cleanli- 
ness and comfort which conduce to the happiest 
effect. The great mass of men in city and country 
must be laboring people. It is not possible that 
this should be otherwise. No social or political 
millennium can ever set humanity free from the 
dominion of toil. The decree is irrevocable: a In 
the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread." In 
view of this partly, no doubt, the Infinite Father 
" made the Sabbath for man." Even in its lowest 
aspect, as it brings release from labor one day in 
seven, it is a boon of inestimable value. 

But to the laborer and his family it brings a bless- 
ing yet richer in its civilizing tendencies; it brings 
to them the Church, the Sunday-school, and the 
opportunity of reading; it opens to them the whole 
region of Christian truth, and raises their life out 
of that sordid condition to which it would be hope- 
lessly reduced by unrelieved, continuous labor; they 
are humanized and exalted by it; it brings those 
conditions that refine the taste and quicken the sen- 
sibilities; it furnishes the opportunity of acquiring 
knowledge, and that class of knowledge, especially, 
which most elevates our nature; it touches life with 



512 The LonVs-day in the Family. 

lights which give it a high significance, and a value 
which it could never acquire from the corn-field or 
the w T ork-shop. Imperfectly as the Lord's-day is 
observed amongst us, no one can question that the 
civilization of our country is at a point incompara- 
bly above what would be possible if this day were 
blotted from the calendar, or its observance entirely 
obliterated from the hearts and habits of the people. 
Children grow up better informed and better trained, 
incomparably so. 

But its true value is in its purely religious char- 
acter, and in this respect it is a peculiar treasure to 
the poor. Others may make opportunities of wor- 
ship at their convenience, but those whose daily 
bread comes of daily toil must have a Sabbath, or be 
doomed to a life which is only of the earth earthy. 
They must be remitted to the dominion of the flesh. 
The problem of life for them must be given in the 
three paltry questions, " What shall I eat? what shall 
I drink? and wherewithal shall I be clothed ? " With- 
out the Sabbath, scarcely a ray of hallowed light 
could fall upon the humble hearth-stone, or irradiate 
the domestic scene. Children would be born only 
to be fed until they could labor, and then to labor 
until they must die. From the cradle to the grave 
life must grope in unmitigated gloom. No sustain- 
ing hope to aid it in its weariness, no high motive 
to quicken its aspirations, no divine trust to soften 
its asperities, home could be scarcely better than a 
kennel or a sty. 

For there must be time and means of acquiring 
the knowledge of God in order to any actual spirit- 



The LonVs-day in the Family. 513 

ual life among men. The purity and joy of the 
divine life are not attained without an effort; the 
Christian character is not formed at hap-hazard; 
the sanctities of religion are not realized in the ab- 
sence of their proper conditions. Childhood must 
enjoy divine culture, or there can be no Christian 
maturity. But we know there can be no divine 
culture in the home that is visited by no Sabbath. 
The Lord's-day must bring all its holy meaning to 
the children of our country, to the children of the 
cottage and of the hovel, or religion will perish out 
of the land. 

But not to the poor only is this day a priceless 
treasure. The man of business and of affairs re- 
quires the relief which it affords, and the opulent 
household is in equal need of an oft-recurring sum- 
mons to appear consciously before God. Luxury, 
no less than toil, tends to sensuality. The holy 
touch and suggestion of the Sabbath are required 
no less in the mansion than in the hovel. Sordid 
pleasures shut God out of the soul even more effect- 
ually than sordid toil. The concentrated Sabbath 
utterance of divine things is equally indispensable 
in both cases. To break the power of earthiness 
and sensuality over the soul, God must come into 
every house, and have exclusive possession, once a 
week at least. One day in seven must be his; all 
its pleasures and employments, its reading and con- 
versation, must contemplate him. Childhood must 
feel itself bathed in the Sabbath atmosphere, and be 
saturated with heavenly influences, at intervals as 

brief as those of the hebdomadal period. With a 

22* 



514 The Lord's-day in the Family. 

prevalent Christian tone in the family from clay to 
clay, and the exclusive consecration of one clay in 
seven to God, the child can scarcely fail of such ef- 
fect upon his conscience as to lead him to Christ. 

No doubt a really intelligent pietj- is conscious of 
the consecration of all time and all labor to God; 
yet there are immediate secondary ends in view in 
all ordinary employments, and the child is scarcely 
capable of such elevation as to refer secular avoca- 
tions to God. But in the occupations of the Lord's- 
day, the immediate and palpable significance is per- 
ceived by a child that is scarcely yet removed from 
its infancy, and the holy day becomes the vehicle of 
holy thoughts and the occasion of heavenward im- 
pulses at a period so early that no memories of ma- 
ture life will go back to a time antedating them. 
Thus life becomes preoccupied by Christian truth 
and a devout consciousness through the means of 
the Lord's-day in the family. Nor can any man, 
however skilled in spiritual dynamics, calculate the 
measure of these moral forces in all after life. 

What the Sabbath is to be under the roof, or 
whether, indeed, there shall be any Sabbath under 
the roof, must depend upon the head of the family. 
The husband and wife must concur in the domestic 
administration in order to any effectual Sabbath- 
keeping. Both must have a sensitive conscience 
toward God, or the Sabbath will not be a delight. 
This first and capital condition secured, there must 
be, then — 

1. Great firmness. There will be much to resist 
in order to secure the Sabbath against invasion. In 



TJie LorcVs-ddy in the Family. 515 

the circle of a man's acquaintances there will be many 
disposed to social visiting on that day, and they will 
break up all feeling of the sacred character of the 
day both by the labors of hospitality and the indis- 
criminate introduction of topics of conversation. 
Now, to resist this no small amount of courage is 
necessary. For want of this courage on the part 
of Christian men, the Sabbath is absolutely driven 
out of many a home, and the day devoted simply to 
social pleasure. In this way multitudes of children 
are defrauded of all inheritance in the Lord's-day. 
It becomes every child of God to set his face like a 
flint in this matter. It were infinitely better to 
alienate all his friends than keep them at the ex- 
pense of a domestic Sabbath. Friends are either a 
great blessing or a great curse. When they come 
between us and God they are a great curse. Unless 
they will stand aside and leave our relations with 
our Creator undisturbed, we must break with them, 
no matter who they may be. The right eye must 
be sacrificed when the soul's safety requires it. 
Christ will be absolute Lord, and whatsoever it 
maybe that opposes him must be surrendered. We 
must stand like a rock against all invasion of our 
Sabbaths. Nothing can compensate us or our chil- 
dren for the expulsion of the hallowed day. 

Much firmness will be required, also, in the gov- 
ernment of children so as to secure the sanctity of 
the Lord's-day under the roof. They may feel the 
needed restraint to be oppressive, and resist it. 
This will certainly be the fact in those cases where 
the home government is weak, and parental author- 



516 The Lord' s-day *in the Family. 

ity is not steadily maintained. Youthful life is effer- 
vescent, and a quiet clay seems quite intolerable. 
But when the Sunday-school has consumed an hour 
and a half, and two services have been attended in 
the house of God, the enforcement of quietness in 
the intervals is not unreasonable. The restraint is 
not greater, in fact, than is necessary for the proper 
assertion of the authority of God upon the sensi- 
bilities of the child. 

The fact of the sovereignty of God must be de- 
livered with great force and in supreme expression 
upon a child, or there can be no effectual prepara- 
tion of him for a truly religious life. In American 
life there is an exaggerated idea of personal liberty; 
so much so that even the magistracy of God is not 
felt in its infinite force. The consequence is a su- 
perficial piety on the part of many Church-members. 
Many who are by no means hypocrites are yet very 
shallow Christians; their religious life is not at all 
pronounced; they have a very dilute conscience 
toward God. The trouble is, they have never con- 
ceived justly of the absolute power and authority 
of God. 

As in the history of religion, so in personal ex- 
perience: Sinai must come before Calvary; the 
ministry of the law must precede the ministry of 
grace; the condemning power must be felt before 
the forgiving love can be experienced. The law 
must enter, and reveal my sin, before ever I can 
know Christ. He is nothing to me until I feel my- 
self to be dead under the law. 

If the Sabbath law is unwelcome to restive child- 



The Lord's-day in the Family. 517 

hood, intelligent parental authority will not forbear 
from its requirements on that account; and while 
unnecessary severity will be avoided, nothing — abso- 
lutely nothing — will be allowed that may mar the holy 
character of the clay. It is God's day, and the well- 
informed Christian parent will know how to give 
full effect to that great fact in the conscience of the 
child. 

There will be no tolerance of any thing that will 
tend to dilute the sense of the absolute right of God 
in the sacred hours of this day. It must be deliv- 
ered with full effect upon the child's conscience, and 
if the restraint be felt to be painful, this very fact 
will conduce to the effect. 

Depend upon it, great firmness is required in pa- 
rental administration. A thousand instances of 
childish restlessness and caprice, a thousand cases of 
social solicitation and urgency, will subject the au- 
thority of the Christian parent to a heavy strain. 
The strongest tenacity will be found necessary to 
resist the pressure. 

But the expression of executive authority in the 
domestic domain need not be harsh, and must not 
be, if the highest ends of discipline are to be se- 
cured. The firmest maintenance of authority is 
gentle in its tone. There must be no passion; pas- 
sion is irregular, fitful; where it once enters, the 
reins are held by an unsteady hand. The home 
government must be one of love, and whatever of 
sternness there is in it must rest on principle and 
conviction, not on passion; it must express itself 
quietly, but persistently. The greatest strength is 



518 The LorcCs-day in the Family. 

the least noisy. A perfect control is secured, not by 
occasional outbursts of authoritative assertion, but 
in the quiet strength that never allows a case of dis- 
obedience. In this state of things, authority soon 
becomes so habitual on one side, and submission on 
the other, that collisions rarely or never occur. 

Only where this is the habit of the home-life can 
the ideal Sabbath be realized. 

At the same time, the wise parent will find happy 
expedients to heighten the Sabbath spirit by reliev- 
ing it of all tendency to ennui. Children are readily 
interested in Bible narratives. The Old Testament 
abounds in story and biography that maybe made at 
once, from the lips of the mother, to beguile and 
sanctify many an hour of the holy day. Juvenile 
religious literature abounds, and the Sabbath affords 
the happiest opportunity to cultivate a taste for prof- 
itable reading. In addition to firmness, there is, 
then, necessary, also, 

2. Intelligence and thoughtful attention on the 
part of parents. All proper pains must be taken to 
secure the spirit of the Sabbath. Let children learn 
the history of the day — both it3 first and its later 
history. The ear of a child will drink in the history 
of the creation with a feeling of wonder and delight 
which may serve the highest purpose; for there can 
be no better preparation of the young heart for the 
doctrine of the Sabbath — "God rested from all his 
work." This statement, falling upon an ear just 
opened by the story of the creation, will fix itself in 
the memory and awaken the deepest reverence. 

Then there is that other story of the greater work 



The Lord' s-day in the Family. 519 

of God — the work of redemption. The cross ever- 
more magnetizes the ear of childhood. Well might 
Christ call little children to him, for none respond to 
his call so sensitively as they. They stand weeping 
by when he is taken down and wrapped in linen, 
and laid in the new tomb; they stand there in 
thought and faith, early on the morning of the third 
day, ere it is yet light, and see the women coming 
with sweet spices to embalm the sacred body; while 
the women are yet in the distance, they see .the 
angel descend and " roll away the stone ;" they see 
the Lord "rise from the dead," to be the Saviour of 
mankind, and to become the author of a new crea- 
tion. And now the Sabbath is the first day of the 
seven, instead of the last. It commemorates the 
finished work of atonement, as heretofore it com- 
memorated the finished work of creation. 

Most deeply susceptible of all this is the heart of 
a child; and thus, under wise and simple-hearted 
teaching, will all the sacred import of the day diffuse 
itself through the soul. It is the Lord's-day — the 
day of the week on which he rose from the dead. 

Thus may the Lord's-day, whenever it recurs, be 
made to take entire possession of the Christian 
household, and to be welcomed as the sign and wit- 
ness of the love of God; and thus the day itself be- 
comes the vehicle of all-saving truth — the concen- 
trated expression and utterance of the gospel. Its 
hallowed hours bear in upon all hearts the name of 
God and of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Music, too, may be made to add both to the proper 
effect and hallowed pleasures of the day. No tongue 



520 The Lord's-ddy in the Family. 

can express the effect of Christian hymns, such as our 
lyric literature abounds with, sung by an assembled 
family on the Lord's-day. Each heart mellowed by 
domestic affections, each conscience quickened by 
the associations of the day, every voice will have a 
richer tone, and such a hymn as this — 

Alas! and did my Saviour bleed? 

And did my Sovereign die? 
Would he devote that sacred head 

For such a worm as I? 

will sink down into the soul, diffuse itself through 
the life, and enter into the staple of thought and 
feeling, so vitally as to become a most efficient caus- 
ative force in the formation of character. So may 
the history of the Sabbath be set to most melting 
strains, and its memories interwoven with all the 
fibers of the soul by the trill and vibration of sacred 
melody, when it wafts in upon the spirit such words 
as these: 

He rises, who mankind has bought 

With grief and pain extreme: 
'Twas great to speak the world from naught; 

'T was greater to redeem. 

In fact, our Christian hymnology is rich in compo- 
sitions that fall in with and heighten the Sabbath 
consciousness. 

As to the actual degree of restraint to be imposed 
on children of various ages, the conscientious Chris- 
tian parent will be the judge, and the general rules 
already given will be a sufficient guide. 

If there be any call to serve the sick in the neigh- 
borhood, or to relieve the poor, we have ample war- 



The Lord's-day in the Family. 521 

rant of our Saviour to do what may be required. 
The object of these labors gives them a hallowed 
character, and constitutes a lawful claim upon Sab- 
bath time, so that the} 7 do not violate, but rather 
heighten, the sanctity of the day. But otherwise, 
where money-making is the object, the same em- 
ployment would degrade the day, for it belongs to 
God. 

In holy duties let the day, 
In holy comforts, pass away. 

Two institutions which are coeval with the crea- 
tion of man remain to the present time — marriage 
and the Sabbath. They have descended to us from 
Eden; the odors of paradise are in them both — per- 
fumes richer than the breath of Oriental spices; 
they are the only surviving memorials of the time 
of man's perfect innoceney — the only traces that re- 
main of the condition of sinless purity and love 
from which mankind have so deeply fallen. These 
both link us to the time when the Lord God came 
in the cool of the day, and talked with the first man 
and his wife in an unsullied home. 

From marriage the family takes its existence, and 
the family is the corner-stone of all order, social and 
civil, and the fountain of all civilization. Conjugal 
and parental love furnish all the motives which in- 
sure that training and education of children without 
which society would be a mere chaos and govern- 
ment an iron despotism. Without marriage, the 
father of scattered and unknown children could feel 
no greater interest in his oiFspring than the beasts 
that perish; a condition lower than that of the sav- 



522 The LonCs-day in the Family. 

age, and more brutal than that of the brute, must 
result; for the family, with its pride and interest in 
a recognized offspring, exists even among savages. 
The resources of the mother suffice to nourish the 
infant brute; but without the father's contribution, 
either from the plow or from the chase, not one hu- 
man infant in a thousand could reach maturity. 

But let one man and one woman be consecrated 
to each other in the exclusive proprietorship of the 
marital bond, dwelling under the same roof, in a 
common relation to the same children that appeal to 
both alike in the helpless cry that comes from the 
cradle, that crawl and play about their feet in child- 
hood, and grow up like olive-branches around their 
table, and you shall see that here are the conditions 
in which the parental consciousness is fully evolved. 
Instead of being a mere brute, living for his own 
gratification, the man overflows in generous hopes 
and efforts lavished upon his children. He is anx- 
ious for their good condition, and therefore labors 
and economizes — and from labor and economy comes 
property; he is solicitous for their security, both in 
person and property, and therefore unites with his 
neighbors in making and upholding just laws — and 
from this arises social order; he takes pride in their 
reputation, and so trains them to sentiments of 
honor and to a course of good behavior; he finds an 
exquisite gratification in their intellectual superior- 
ity, and will incur any pains and cost to provide for 
their education. To provide for all this, wealth 
must be increased, and so he begins to trade; from 
this comes commerce. From industry and com- 



The LorcVs-day in the Family. 523 

merce comes augmented wealth; and now the pa- 
rental instinct yearns for expressions of the beautiful 
that may surround and gratify a cultivated offspring 
in their home — and art is patronized. 

From property, and social order, and personal 
honor, and education, and commerce, and art, civili- 
zation arises. The motive-power that gives birth to 
all these is found in the sentiments and affections that 
exist in the family. 

Now, add religion to all this: let the light of the 
Sabbath dawn upon the domestic hearth; let the 
holy day, with all that it imports, come into the 
house; let faith and the love of God crown the cat- 
alogue of virtues and affections already given ; bring 
in the hop»e of immortality ; let a portion of time be 
consecrated to GTod; one day in seven let the house- 
hold be ordered exclusively for the honor of the 
Creator and for the praise of the Redeemer of men; 
let worship and charity monopolize this day. Thus 
will humanity be elevated to the plane of the un- 
seen and the infinite; and humanity is never half 
conscious of itself until it knows itself in God. All 
the parade of a civilization that ignores God is a 
poor procession of puppets across a miserable stage. 
Morality, without the sanctions of divine authority 
and the inspiration of faith, is but the semblance 
of virtue — a body without life. Only God can so 
breathe into it that it can become a living soul; and 
this new creation is a divine work, wrought mainly 
through Sabbath influences in the family. 

These two institutions — the family and the Sab- 
bath — came out of' the gates of Eden linked to- 



524 The Lvrd's-day in the Family. 

gether; they cannot be disjointed. Id the family 
the Sabbath has its chief expression, even more than 
in the house of God; for in the sanctuary there is 
often, on occasion, the same worship on other days 
as on that; but in the home there is no day like this 
one. No birthday nor holiday resembles it. It is 
an unseen but felt presence in every chamber and 
upon every heart; its touch is upon every face, and 
its tone in every voice; its light is purer than the 
light of common days, as if celestial beams were 
braided in with the rays that stream through the 
window or lie upon the threshold. The man-servant 
and the maid-servant rest, and even the horse and 
the ox roam in the pasture or sleep in the stall; the 
plane and the ax lie idle in the shop; the court- 
house is closed; and every place of merchandise is 
still; human life has retreated from its contests. 
Men emerge from the door-way of home only to 
visit the house of God, and then return to commune 
with the Invisible at the domestic altar, and to rest. 
Here and now the heart gathers all its treasures to- 
gether, and estimates them by a standard of values 
that finds its definition in such words as God and 
holiness, eternity and heaven. 

Thus home and the Sabbath belong to each other. 
There can be no home, in the highest meaning of 
the word, without the Sabbath; and without the 
family and the home there could scarcely be a Sab- 
bath at all upon the earth. 

The family is the garden in which fruit ripens for 
immortality, and the Sabbath is the season of its 
culture. 



The Lord's-d.ay in the Family. 525 

The family is the training-school of souls for grad- 
uation in virtue and blessedness, and the Sabbath is 
the recitation-day. 

In the family, through the influence of its pure 
affections, children are brought to Christ, and on the 
Sabbath they have nothing else to do, all the day 
long, but to receive his caresses and his blessing. 

In the family the heavenly society is symbolized, 
and the Sabbath types its holy employments, its rest, 
and its peace. 

In the family human society finds its highest ex- 
pression, and the Sabbath brings it into actual kin- 
ship with the holy angels. 

The Sabbath imports heaven into the household 
on earth, and then transports the family from its 
paradise on earth to the very heaven of heavens, 
where the Eternal Father shall gather the whole 
family into their final home. Then shall follow the 
day of rest no day of toil, and pain, and temptation, 
and conflict, and mean employment, but their Sab- 
bath-keeping shall be forever and ever. 



526 The Bright and Morning St 



ar 



§fa fjright and JTCorraitg jltar. 



SERMON XVII. 

"I am the root and the offspring of David, and the bright 
and morning star." Rev. xxii. 16. 

I NEED scarcely pause to say that the person 
speaking here is Jesus, and the language is 
metaphorical; but the metaphors — for there are sev- 
eral — are of easy interpretation and full of vital 
truth. They are descriptive — first, of the person of 
Christ, and, secondly, of his relation to his people. 

I. The person of Christ, as given in this text. 

1. "I am the Root of David " — that is, " I sustain 
to David the same relation a root does to the plant 
that grows out of it." 

The plant originates from the root; the beginning 
of life is there. So David's life springs from Christ, 
and so, also, does all life and all being; for he is the 
Creator of all things, both visible and invisible. 
"All things were made by him, and without him 
was not any thing made that was made." Many 
passages concur in the affirmation of this fact. How 



The Bright and Morning Star. 527 

strikingly does the simple metaphor of the text put 
this great truth ! 

But this metaphor suggests a farther truth: the 
plant not only originates in the root, but is always 
after in vital dependence upon it. Severed from the 
root, it must perish instantly; it has no self-sustain- 
ing power, but all its sustenance is from the root. 

This represents the close relation of the creature 
to the Creator. Creation is not the only point at 
which we are dependent on God; for he did not 
just make things, and cast them off to take their 
chances. He is not a mere machinist, who con- 
structs his engine, and then has no more to do with 
it, but is rather in the relation of machinist and en- 
gineer, both; or, more accurately, he is in the vital 
relation of the root to the plant; for "by him all 
things consist." Consist — a most expressive word. 
" He upholdeth all things by the word of his power." 

Let it not be said that God made all things, and 
established efficient laws of nature under which all 
processes go on since the beginning. What is a 
law? Is it mere force ? Force is not an independent 
thing; for you cannot think of it by itself, but only 
as proceeding from some cause, and that cause, in 
the last analysis, will be found to be a person — a 
vital entity. If you regard law as simply method, 
this equally demands a person — a vital intelligence, 
and with the idea of will added; for any procedure 
on a method supposes will as well as intelligence. 
It is absolutely essential, as a condition of thought, 
that law suggests the legislator. This, if you con- 
sider it as a rule only; but if you consider it as a 



528 The Bright and Morning Star. 

rule actually in force, not only the legislator, but 
the executive, is suggested. The statutes of Mis- 
souri are law, because they contain and express the 
will of an existing State, and are enforced by the 
power of the State. If this body-politic — the State 
of Missouri — should be annihilated, any copy of its 
statutes surviving would furnish matter only for 
history; it would not be law. 

The same is true of law in all forms of it, natural 
as well as civil; it is an expression of intelligence, 
will, and power. I have long been convinced that 
what we call the laws of nature are simply the 
method by which God is carrying on the affairs of 
the universe. The force which makes the method 
.effectual proceeds immediately from him, as the in- 
telligence that ordains the method is in him. 

• How inexpressibly precious to God's people is this 
sense of his immanence in nature, and his immedi- 
ate guardianship and care of all! His word assures 
our faith most sweetly. He is near, taking minute 
oversight of all our affairs, and charging himself 
with all our concerns. "Your Pleavenly Father 
knoweth that ye have need of all these things." 
"Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord 
pitieth them that fear him; for he knoweth our 
frame; he remembereth that we are dust." Even 
the fall of a sparrow he follows with his pity, and 
men are of more value than many sparrows. So 
minute is his care, that "the very hairs of your head 
are all numbered." For his people all things work 
for good, so that every event of life enters into the 
ministries of grace — so close and vital is the relation 



The Bright and Morning Star. 529 

of the Creator to his creatures. "I am the Root of 
David." 

But the text reveals the person of Christ in an- 
other light: he is the " Offspring of David." David 
is his ancestor; for he descended from him. 

How is this? Can he be at once Root and Off- 
spring, Creator and Son, of David? What a paradox 
is here! Do not these two propositions contradict 
each other? Then, one or both must be false; for 
no two truths can be in conflict with each other. 
That would be impossible; for truth, like light, 
travels in straight lines, and no two rays emanating 
from the same source can cross; but all truth ema- 
nates from God, and no two truths can ever cross 
each other's path. 

Let ns see about these diverse terms, the Root and 
the Offspring. 

In the prophetic Scriptures there are two distinct 
and diverse classes of predictions respecting Mes- 
siah, the one class placing him above all conception 
of created power and dignity, and the other classing 
him with the most lowly and miserable. 

Of the first class are such passages as these: "A 
King shall reign and prosper." "All kings shall 
fall down before him; all nations shall serve him." 
"Prayer also shall be made for him continually, and 
daily shall he be praised." " He shall have dominion 
also from sea to sea, and from the river unto the 
ends of the earth." "The Lord hath said unto me, 
Thou art my Son; this day have I begotten thee." 
"Kiss the Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from 
the way when his wrath is kindled but a little. 
23 



530 The Bright and Morning Star. 

Blessed are all they that put their trust in him." 
"Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given; 
and the government shall be upon his shoulder; and 
his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The 
Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince 
of Peace." Description exhausts itself; it can rise 
no higher. No other person is so glorious in the 
heavens or in the earth. 

Yet in other passages he is represented as most 
abject. Take the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, 
throughout: " He hath no form nor comeliness; and 
when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we 
should desire him. He is despised and rejected of 
men: a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; 
and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was 
despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath 
borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we 
did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and af- 
flicted. But he was wounded for our trangressions, 
he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement 
of our peace was upon him ; and with his stripes we 
are healed." "The Lord hath laid on him the iniq- 
uity of us all." So lowly, so without form or come- 
liness was he to be. 

How are these two classes of prophecies to be 
reconciled? 

Let us turn to the gospel narratives, and see if 
any light may dawn upon us from them. Here we 
shall see two diverse classes of facts in the actual 
life of our Lord, answering precisely to the two 
classes of prophecies already cited. 

In one class of facts our Saviour appears as 



The Bright and Morning Star. 531 

amongst the lowliest of men. From his birth to 
his burial he was a man of sorrows, and acquainted 
with grief. He was born in the miserable stall of 
Bethlehem. The offering of his parents in the tem- 
ple was that which was allowed only to such as were 
too indigent to offer a lamb. This is proof of ex- 
treme poverty. While yet in his infancy he was a 
fugitive in Egypt. From his ^childhood he was 
reared in Nazareth of Galilee, in a household which 
was subsisted by the labor of a village carpenter, in 
whicli trade he was himself trained. During his 
public ministry he was a wanderer, and " had not 
where to lay his head." Chuza, the wife of Herod's 
steward, and other women who believed in him, 
"ministered to him of their substance." The great 
and rich despised him, except a few who believed 
secretly, but dared not acknowledge him lest they 
should lose caste. At last he is tried, condemned 
in the midst of a popular clamor, scourged publicly 
on the streets, buffeted, spit upon, jeered, and cruci- 
fied. Despised of men ! Yes, all that the prophets 
had intimated of a most lowly and depressed condi- 
tion was fully met in the actual facts of his life. 

But his life had another side, which the narratives 
keep in view from first to last. His birth, so humble 
as to the place, was attended with facts and portents 
befitting the advent of the most august personage of 
human history. "Wise men from the East" were 
guided by a star to Bethlehem, "till it came and 
stood over where the young Child was" — a celestial 
index pointing directly to the person of the glorious 
Child. "And there were in the same country shep- 



532 The Bright and Morning Star. 

herds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their 
flock by night. And lo, the angel of the Lord came 
upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round 
about them; and they were sore afraid." As the 
star guided the wise men, so angels came to the Ju- 
dean shepherds to announce the good tidings of 
great joy which should be to all people: " Unto you 
is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which 
is Christ the Lord." A star from the visible heavens 
and an angel from the invisible announced his ad- 
vent, and a jubilant host suddenly appeared, " prais- 
ing God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, 
and on earth peace, good-will toward men." His 
wisdom at twelve years of age amazed the doctors 
in the temple. At his baptism the heavens were 
opened, the Holy Ghost descended upon him, and 
God pronounced him his Son in an awe-inspiring 
proclamation. Thenceforth nature submitted her- 
self to him, in all her powers and processes. Fierce 
winds hushed themselves under his voice; tempest- 
uous waters were a pavement under his feet; the 
sources of life were commanded by his word. While 
he was on the cross the earth shuddered and broke 
her granite heart, and the sun disappeared in horror 
from the skies; and after he was dead and buried he 
rose again and ascended into the heavens, and now 
sitteth at the right hand of the Father, until he shall 
come again at the last day to judge the quick and 
the dead. 

These two classes of incongruous facts in the life 
of Jesus answer exactly to the two classes of appar- 
ently discrepant prophecies concerning Messiah. 



The Bright and Morning Star. 533 

Is there any one point around which they may all 
cluster — any great fact that will bring them all into 
relation and harmony? There is. 

It is the fact of the Incarnation. "The Word 
was made flesh, and dwelt among ns (and we be- 
held his glory, the glory as of the only-begotten of 
the Father), full of grace and truth." "In him 
dwelt all the fullness of the Godhead bodily." " God 
w T as manifest in the flesh." As he was man, he in- 
herited the lowliest condition; as he was God, he 
answered to the glowing picture of the prophetic 
pencil, in its divinest touches, and is, indeed, both 
the Root and the Offspring of David. 

This is the wonder of the universe. God never 
related himself so vitally to angels. He took not on 
him the nature of angels, but the seed of the woman. 
Fallen, debased humanity is thus distinguished above 
all other orders of being. It is the point at which 
God comes into special manifestation, and is thus in 
the closest relation to him of all created things. 
Thus humanity, in every redeemed individual of the 
race, is elevated to the very pinnacle of created be- 
ing, and sin, so deadly in itself, becomes the occasion 
at once of the fullest expression of Godhead and 
the highest exaltation of the creature. 

The God-man is the Mediator. So far as he is 
human, he is in deepest sympathy with us men. 
"He was tempted in all points like as we are," and 
is "touched with the feeling of our infirmities." 
In our approach to him we do not call on one so far 
above us as not to be in sympathy with us, but upon 
one who 



534 The Bright and Morning Star. 

Knows what sore temptations mean, 
For he hath felt the same. 

Our prayer goes into a human ear; our grief 
touches a human heart. What assurance of inter- 
est in our case does this give! He cannot hut be 
interested in us; for he is one of us. "He is very 
man" — no mere simulation of humanity; he is man 
in every essential fact of his nature, and in all the 
sensibilities and relationships of it. His love for us 
is human; it is not a mere pity that looks down 
upon us from some supreme elevation, but a love 
that feels with us as well as for us. We approach it 
without embarrassment or reserve; it is open to us, 
draws us, encourages us, assures us, by an actual 
fellowship of nature. In this respect how perfect is 
his adaptation to his office of Mediator with God in 
our behalf! There will be no sluggish inattention 
to our needs. 

But in him the human is in immediate personal 
union with the divine; he is God. His mediation 
in our behalf is no feeble, inadequate human advo- 
cacy of our cause; but he appears for us with divine 
authority, and has a right to be heard in the coun- 
sels of the Trinity. He has authority to stand before 
the Father, and say, " I will," and he utters the sub- 
lime imperative in our behalf. "I will that they 
also whom thou hast given me be with me where I 
am ; that they may behold my glory which thou hast 
sriven me; for thou lovedst me before the founda- 
tion of the world." 

Thus our prayer goes into a human ear, and, 
through human sensibilities, .moves a divine power 



The Bright and Morning Star. 535 

in our interest. Even our sin raises no barrier 
against our approach to him; for he knows what 
temptation is. In him, indeed, is no sin; but he is 
separate from sinners; otherwise, be could be no 
Mediator with God for us. But he did go through 
all the experiences incident to a depraved condition ; 
for he was even tempted to sin, and had that nature 
which exposed him to temptation. All the impulses 
which, unchecked, go on to sin were in his con- 
sciousness, and he, coming so near to us even as we 
are sinners, pities us with a human tenderness, and 
with all that interest becomes our " Advocate with 
the Father." 

In his human nature he is most accessible to us. 
All the sensibilities of our nature relate us to him so 
as to make him open to us. Freely we come to him 
as to our own brother by blood, reared at the same 
hearth-stone; he is of our family; he is one of us. 

And he is one with the Father, so that through him 
we come to God. If I should seek access to some 
august personage, whose good-will I desired to pro- 
pitiate, did I but have a friend, a near kinsman, at 
once tenderly interested in me and having a power- 
ful influence with the other party, through him I 
should find easy approach. 

What I need above all things on earth, for time 
and for eternity, is to establish good relations with 
God; but I am in sin, and this constitutes a fatal 
interruption of my relations with God; it has made 
me odious in his eyes. Without a divine Friend, 
through whom I may come to him, I can never stand 
in his presence. But this Friend I have — Jesus, my 



536 The Bright and Morning Star. 

divine Kinsman, my Elder Brother — lie has found 
means to propitiate the Infinite Throne, having shed 
his own blood to put away my sin ; he is my Advo- 
cate with God, my Propitiation, my Peace-maker. 

In my own character I cannot stand before God; 
for my character is most deeply polluted; but I ap- 
proach the Father through the Son, and his holy char- 
acter makes way for me. A felon can get the ear of 
a king if only some powerful friend of the monarch 
is interested in him. This is our case; there is a 
common Friend between the Father and us. The 
Son of the Eternal King, his only -begotten and well- 
beloved Son, is our Brother; he mediates — comes 
between the Father and us, to make reconciliation. 
The only fatal obstruction in the way — our guilt — 
he puts away by his own act of infinite love toward 
us, taking it upon himself and suffering the penalty 
of it. Having met the demand of justice upon us, 
the way of reconciliation is open, and through his 
merit we are received by the Father. 

Our own name is but another word for sin, so that 
in our own name we cannot appear before God; but 
he has given us his name, and in that name we come 
to God. My own name may not be good for fifty 
cents; but if my friend, whose estate is good for 
fifty millions of dollars, grants me the use of his 
name, I shall get all I need, and my own signature 
becomes respectable as it stands along with his, so 
that with the utmost assurance I offer my paper for 
discount. Without his name the sense of my pov- 
erty would take away all hope, but with it I am full 
of confidence and joy. 



The Bright and Morning Star. 537 

The Son of God has given me the use of his name, 
and all the treasures of the Godhead are open to me. 

I go to the ends of the earth; my friend in Nash- 
ville gives me a letter to his friend in India. I should 
appear before the stranger a mere vagabond if I 
were not accredited to him; but his friend has writ- 
ten, "Receive him for my sake, and as you would 
receive me," and signed it with his name, and what- 
ever of hospitable regard the friend would command 
if he were there in person the stranger accredited 
by his name receives in his place. 

I offer my poor prayers to the Father in the ever- 
blessed Name, and, commended by that Name, they 
command an audience. It is the name of the only- 
begotten Son ; it is the name of the atoning Sacri- 
fice; it has infinite merit of personal dignity, and 
infiuite merit of sacrificial suffering; and I have full 
warrant to use and offer it in all my approaches to 
God. " Whatsoever ye shall ask of the Father in 
my name, he will give it you." "Hitherto ye have 
asked nothing in my name; ask, and ye shall re- 
ceive, that your joy may be full." 

The whole method of grace hinges on the mystery 
of the Incarnation; and mediation finds its perfect 
expression in the relations of the divine Man — my 
Kinsman, and God's Son — joined to me in vital sym- 
pathy of blood on one side, and on the other com- 
manding the ear of God in the glory which he had 
with the Father before the world was. 

To say that the fact of the Incarnation is an in- 
conceivable mystery, and therefore cannot be true, 
is at once puerile and illogical. Is nothing true 
23* 



538 The Bright and Morning Star. 

except that which is conceivable by me? Then, 
nothing at all is true! The sun does not shine; the 
grain of corn does not germinate; the wind does not 
blow; there is no life; there is nothing; for I do not 
comprehend any thing. It is of no consequence 
that we do not comprehend his being; but he is all 
in all to us, just because he is the Root and the Off- 
spring of David — God, Max, Mediator. 

II. The text gives the relation of Christ to his 'people. 
He is " the Bright and Morning Star." 

In his relation to the moral world, the Lord Jesus 
is the true Polar Star. In the system of eternal 
truth he is at the central point. He embodies all 
essential virtue, and in his life and character exem- 
plifies the great fact of divine holiness. "In him 
is light, and in him is no darkness at all." With 
the eye fixed on him, and conduct adjusted to his 
example, the soul is always safe. He who takes his 
reckonings on the sea of life by this Cynosure can 
never be cast away; he is the true Center around 
which all that is true and holy must revolve forever. 
He who is in the right relation to him is, in virtue 
of that fact, in right relations with all things else. 
But true and significant as all this is, it is not sug- 
gested by the metaphor of the text. Let us confine 
ourselves to that. 

1. He is the bright Star — a Source of light; in fact, 
all the light we have, as to our spiritual life and its 
relations, emanates from him. Xo knowledge of 
divine things could be possible but through a direct 
revelation from God. The natural reason can never 
discover the secrets of creation and destiny. Why 



The Bright and Morning Star. 539 

we have any being, and what our relations to God 
may be; what he requires of ns, and upon what 
conditions and penalties; what state of being we are 
to be in after death, or whether we are to exist at all 
after death — we can know only upon God's own as- 
surance. Upon the great questions of sin and par- 
don we could never know any thing but by his word. 
That word he has given us through the Son; for he is 
the Medium of all revelation. He is, therefore, " the 
Light of the world." All we know of these matters, 
which are of such moment to us, comes to us from 
Christ. He is the only Light shining in these dark 
places — a blessed Eadiance, opening to us secrets 
hid from the foundation of the world. But it is not 
the full light of day; it is but the light of a star; 
for we are yet but in the night-time of our being — 
the day has not yet dawned. How many facts are 
hid from us in thick darkness! How little do we 
know of the ways of God, even in those respects in 
which we are most vitally concerned ! How strange 
are his providences ! how inscrutable, and often most 
trying to our faith! The book of providence is all 
written in hieroglyph, and we have not the key by 
which to decipher it. How often death comes to 
the young, and pure, and happy, while long life and 
opportunity are given to the most vicious, whose in- 
Huence is a deadly malaria ! How often the virtuous 
and industrious suffer, while the unscrupulous tri- 
umph by means of their very vices! 

Yast regions of divine truth, touching upon us 
on all sides, lie in impenetrable shadows that mock 
every effort of the eye. What secrets are hid there, 



540 The Bright and Morning Star. 

lying full in the scope of vision, if only we had 
light! How we long for the revelation of the un- 
seen things! But, alas! we have only star-light; 
we see only as through a glass darkly. There is 
very little that we see distinctly and clearly. 

But we are only travelers, and our great need is 
light sufficient to discover the way. 

Star-light is sufficient for this. Blessed be God, we 
have light enough to travel by! Our bright Star is 
in an unclouded sky, the way is plain, and all the 
way-marks distinct. "The wayfaring men, though 
fools, shall not err therein." We are in a waste, 
howling wilderness, far from our Father's house, 
and our great desire is to make our way safe home. 
This is the supreme exigency of oar life. We are 
strangers and pilgrims, as all our fathers were, in an 
enemy's land, and seek our way home — home, home, 
our beautiful home in heaven! When shall we sit 
down at the table there? when shall we hear the 
song of the angels and the voice of God? We must 
not tarry for sight-seeing by the way; we must 
hasten home, and the star-light discovers the way — 
it is all we need. 

But it would be such a joy as we travel if the 
beautiful landscape were only disclosed to us in a 
full light! Things appear in unreal shapes in this 
dim light; many objects seem to be monsters, which 
in the full light would be harmless and most beauti- 
ful. This company of goblins that sets my hair on 
end would prove, if the sun were up, to be a clump 
of wild roses in full bloom and fragrance. Beauty 
and grandeur are everywhere strewn over the wide 



The Bright and Morning Star. 541 

sweep of the landscape, and would regale our vision 
like a very Eclen ; but in this night and shadow we 
see naught but the outline of the boldest features; 
all the exquisite pencilings, all the sublimest glories 
of the scene are lost as we pass. 

But, for the exigences of the way, we have all the 
light we need, and press onward in expectation of 
the coming day. We walk in the light we have, 
and press on in hope; for he is not only the Bright, 
but also, 

2. " The Morning Star." This is the star of hope 
— the herald of the approaching sun. The morning 
star assures us; the night is far spent when her 
beautiful face illuminates and adorns the eastern 
skies; the period of darkness will soon end; the 
dawn is at hand, and all the splendors of the perfect 
day approach. 

I can never forget my first experience in watching 
with the sick. I was but a youth, and had an exag- 
gerated sense of the awful nature of death. The 
wife of the sufferer, worn out with several nights of 
unaided nursing, retired and left the sole responsi- 
bility upon me. To my unpracticed eye the symp- 
toms were alarming, and I knew not but that I 
should be a solitary witness of the death-struggle in 
the dead hours of the night. I handled the medi- 
cines with awe, not knowing what fatal effect might 
follow from any inadvertency or neglect. Sensibil- 
ity was at its highest tension. The sufferer was 
restless and in great pain. There was no clock nor 
watch to index the progress of the night. It could 
have been scarce later than midnight when the pa- 



542 The Bright and Morning Star. 

tient asked, "Isn't it almost day?" I soothed him 
by such answer as I could make: but ever, at short 
intervals, there was the same unhappy chiding of 
the hours. How long they seemed to him, and not 
less so to me ! Ever since that night I have known 
the longing and the agony of them that "wait for 
the morning." Time had lost his wings, and his 
very feet were lead. 

"Isn't it almost day?" Again, and again, and 
again, the question came. I cast my eye upon the 
window opening toward the east, and replied, "No; 
the morning star is not up yet;" and the heavy 
hours still lagged over the fevered couch, and the 
silence and the darkness made a show of peace 
which mocked the fiery pulse and the hot brow. 

"It must be day." What an agony was in the 
voice! "It must be clay." "Xo; but it will be, 
soon, for the morning star is up." "Thauk God!" 
exclaimed the sick man, with involuntary vehemence 
of grateful emotion. Was ever the herald of the 
morning more beautiful to mortal eves than to mine, 
that long and dreadful night? 

People of God, our Morning Star is already in the 
sky! How bright it is in the blue depths! how 
beautiful ! What a lustrous peace it sheds upon the 
brow of night! 

With some of you, brethren, the night has seemed 
dark and long — a night of doubts, and felt ignorance, 
and fears, and sicknesses, and bereavements, and 
temptations. You are even now walking in the 
shadows, among the graves of your dead. The air is 
chill, and the sighing of the winds in the pine-tops is 



The Bright and Morning Star. 543 

the dirge of a thousand buried hopes. The accom- 
paniments of life are darkness and decay, and in the 
gloom even the beautiful flowers of hope by the way- 
side take on sinister shapes and repulsive aspects. 

Lift up your eyes! The Morning Star is in the 
sky already, heralding the Eternal Sun. The day is 
at hand — the day of eternity, the day that shall 
never be dimmed by storms nor succeeded by night. 
The light of immortal life is just at the dawn. 
Death is now shortly to be swallowed up of life, as 
the glow of the sun consumes the darkness. 

But we must die to enter into that light. The day 
does not come to us; we go into it. It is only in the 
deceptive appearance of things that the sun rises, 
while in fact it is our hemisphere that is turned 
over to the sun, and so into the light. So, also, in 
the spiritual domain; we are in the darkness be- 
cause our hemisphere of existence is turned away 
from the Sun. But the momentum of Calvary is 
upon us, effecting that moral revolution upon the 
axis of our destiny which, even now while I speak, 
has brought the bright and morning star above the 
line of our horizon, and soon, bearing us beyond the 
gloom of a mortal condition, will bring us under the 
broad, blazing disc of the Sun of righteousness, 
whose beams shall irradiate for us all the abysses of 
truth and being. 

Then shall we " see as we are seen, and know as 
we are known." The gloom of ignorance, and doubt, 
and fear, and death, will disappear; for "there shall 
be no night there." " What I do thou knowest not 
now, but thou shalt know hereafter." 



544 The Bright and Morning Star. 

Then shall the worn traveler, at clay-dawn, reach 
his Father's house. The star-illumined and painful 
journey ends in the morning. There was light suf- 
ficient for the way, but not for exploration. Then I 
had nothing else to do but to press my way onward ; 
now, I shall have leisure and opportunity; now, in 
the light I shall explore all places of God's dominion, 
and revel in the glory of every landscape as it lies 
in the dewy radiance of the morning. All the per- 
plexing problems of an inexplicable providence shall 
be made plain; I shall know why the tongue of the 
slanderer was permitted to make havoc of goodly 
names and rend the very Church of God; I shall 
understand the secret of baffled hopes and ruined 
fortunes; I shall know why my mother suffered so, 
and why my father was a son of grief; why my sister 
died at the threshold of early womanhood, and my 
eldest brother fell under the blight of fruitless effort 
and defeated expectation; I shall understand the 
mystery of that stroke under which my baby boys 
died upon the breast of their mother — the bud per- 
ishing with all the glory of its possibilities infolded 
in its bosom. My own fiery trials will be seen in 
their most gracious effect on character and destiny, 
and the glory of God will appear in the white light 
of its own spotless and infinite perfection of wisdom 
and love. 

But until the day comes we must walk in the light 
of hope — the sweet radiance of peace and promise, 
the hallowed beams of the " Bright and Morning 
Star." 



The Fountain of the Water of Life. 545 



ifte fountain of the Hatet of life. 



SERMON XVIII. 

"I will give unto him that is a.thirst of the fountain of the 
water of life freely." Rev. xxi. 6. 

AEE ideas innate? 
I preach to the common people as well as to 
metaphysicians, and as there are a great many more 
of the former than of the latter class, I may be said 
to preach to them chiefly. I shall, therefore, not at- 
tempt to nse the word ideas in any other than what 
I suppose to be the meaning received by people of 
average intelligence. I mean by it the concept of 
things formed in the mind. 

Nor is it my purpose to undertake any learned 
disquisition upon the doctrine of innate ideas. I 
have no objection to that doctrine, provided you will 
let me explain it. At any rate, the capacity of ideas 
is an essential attribute of our nature; but I doubt 
if any idea appears, in consciousness as the simple 
result of innate power — at least, in any well-defined 
form. 

If you can imagine an infant completely isolated 



546 The Fountain of the Water of Life. 

in space, and coming to maturity in years in that 
condition, you will see that it is impossible that it 
should ever have any ideas. Think of it as being 
afloat in space, seeing nothing, hearing nothing, 
touching nothing, and you will see that conscious- 
ness could amount to very little, especially if it were 
deprived of the power of touching its own members 
one against another. The ideas of a new-born child 
are all in a dormant, germinal state, and so must 
they remain forever, in the condition of absolute 
isolation which I have supposed. If you prefer to 
call them not ideas, but the mere capacity of ideas, 
I shall not quarrel with you. I choose to consider 
them ideas in the germ, awaiting conditions of fruc- 
tification. 

The one all-embracing condition of the develop- 
ment of ideas is contact with the objective. No man 
liveth to himself: no human life sufficeth for itself. 
We are so vitally related to that which is external to 
ourselves that consciousness depends, almost wholly, 
upon our relation to it. In absolute isolation there 
could be nothing more than the vaguest sense of 
being. Thrown back completely upon our own in- 
ward being, and not allowed to touch in any way 
upon objects external to ourselves, our conscious- 
ness, even of self, would he indistinct — so indistinct 
as to be scarcely real. We know even ourselves 
through that which is not ourselves. Consciousness 
is conditioned upon contact with the objective. 

Through contact with the objective, ideas are evoked 
into consciousness; and ideas, which are the concepts 
of things, constitute the condition of all thinking. 



The Fountain of the Water of Life. 547 

Thus, by the active power of thought, from primary 
ideas we go on to all combinations of them, and all 
those resultant conditions, active and passive, which 
constitute the highest intellection; for it is not the 
mere passive receptivity of the objective which char- 
acterizes our being, but, in addition to this, a per- 
sonal force which responds to the touch of outward 
things, and in the rebound goes on to active achieve- 
ment, so that by a reproductive power it multiplies 
and yields an almost infinite progeny from the im- 
pregnating presence of the objective. 

I doubt if even the primary ideas of space, and 
unity, and plurality, would ever appear in actual con- 
sciousness but through the medium of the objective; 
certainly, nothing beyond them could. You could 
have no notion whatever of color, or sound, or an 
existing world, except as the ideas of them were 
brought into realization through actual communica- 
tion with the objects themselves. We discover ob- 
jects and their qualities; we find them in units and 
in numbers; we see them isolated, grouped, related, 
and so get the basis of all intellectual conditions and 
processes. Once we have the conditions of mental 
activity, the inward power of action is incalculable; 
but those conditions are in the relation of the sub- 
jective and objective to each other. 

^"ot only ideas, but the sensibilities, also — the pas- 
sions, affections, tastes, sentiments, desires — come 
into consciousness by the same means. They do not 
rise spontaneously, but respond to the presence of an 
object. We should never know any such thing as 
anger but for some provoking encounter, nor of love 



548 The Fountain of the Water of Life. 

nor fear but for contact with such objects as awaken 
them. Only in tbe presence of actual beauty, as it 
is witnessed, or as the image of it is retained in the 
memory or reproduced and varied by the imagina- 
tion, after having been once witnessed, is the sense 
of the beautiful realized. Every thing in the entire 
range of the sensibilities conies into consciousness 
through contact with the objective. 

Farther, the presence of that which is external to 
us is the occasion of the formation of character. 
Motives come from without, and become active and 
efficient in the region of the sensibilities, and actions 
always contemplate somewhat that is outside of self. 
Conduct, good or bad, always has respect to others — 
persons or things around us, below us, or above us. 
How we are affected toward others, and how we de- 
port ourselves with respect to them, must always 
determine our moral character. Motives excited by 
objects from without give occasion for the exercise 
of the will, and on its choices character hinges. 

You see how vital the relation between the sub- 
jective and the objective is. What the type of con- 
sciousness in the individual is to be must depend 
largely upon his immediate surroundings; for the 
objects he is habitually in vital communication with 
must determine the prevalent states of conscious- 
ness. The child reared in the slums of a great city, 
surrounded on all sides, and perpetually, by such ob- 
jects as excite the sensual nature, will inevitably 
take on a prurient form of consciousness; while 
another, sheltered from all that, and trained in a 
constant attention to objects which are pure and 



The Fountain of the Water of Life. 549 

incite to purity, will form the sense of honor and 
virtue. 

Yet the effect is not merely mechanical in either 
case; for the mind is not only acted upon by exter- 
nal objects, but also reacts upon them, and it is the 
attitude the will takes, with respect to them, that 
determines character. We are not just passively 
recipient of the external. In many respects the re- 
ceptivity is passive, but not in all; and let it be 
remarked that character is the resultant of the re- 
ciprocal action and reaction of the subjective and 
objective upon each other; in other words, it is the 
action of the will, involving the affectional nature 
toward that which is external to ourselves. Such 
objects as are contemplated with voluntary affection 
take vital hold upon our nature and assimilate it to 
themselves; but it protects itself against such as it 
rejects and repels. 

We are not the mere sport of circumstances; yet, 
to a great extent, we are at their mercy. Children 
trained wrong are apt to go wrong; but trained in 
the way they should go, they will not depart from it 
w^hen they are old. One of the most important and 
solemn facts of life is the influence which men exert 
upon each other, and especially parents on children. 
Where this ends and the power of volition begins I 
am sure I cannot tell; but it remains that the will is 
the pivot on which character turns; and so every 
one of us must give account of himself to God. 

Another fact germane to the purposes of this dis- 
course, and a correlative of what has been already set 
forth, is that we get all our enjoyments from with- 



550 The Fountain of the Water of Life. 

out. !No man sufliceth unto himself in the matter 
of happiness, any more than in any other respect. 
As all forms of consciousness are conditioned upon 
contact with the objective, so this, of course, which 
we call happiness, as well as the rest. In the adjust- 
ment of the inward capacities and powers with re- 
lated objects, and in reciprocation of contact and 
response, must all enjoyment be found. It does not 
arise out of interior fountains alone, but wells up 
from inflowing streams that pour in their supplies 
from a thousand sources — from nature, from man, 
and from God. The occasions of pleasurable emo- 
tion are always found in our relations; for even the 
contemplations of the mystic have an outward look, 
and all reflection and meditation have for their food 
supplies from without, even more than suggestions 
from within. He who lives most within himself yet 
lives in a consciousness that has been awakened by 
the touch of that which is exterior to himself. 

To the objective, so far as it is contained in nature, 
we are related consciously through the medium of 
sensation. Many forms of consciousness, certainly, 
rise above the plane of the senses, and are realized 
in the sphere of abstract truth and the most refined 
esthetic and emotional sensibilities; but even to 
these altitudes it ascends from suggestions obtained 
in sensation. There arc wonderful resources of 
power by virtue of which the soul, once supplied 
with the conditions of development, rises to amaz- 
ing heights of achievement. 

But the highest forms of consciousness do not 
result from contact with nature; for there are re- 



The Fountain of the Water of Life. 551 

sources within which can be reached only when we 
come to know God. The possibilities of inward 
power are stupendous; no doubt they transcend any 
thing we have yet conceived of. The Creator has 
supplied myriads of forms in nature, each one of 
which calls out some latent power when we touch 
upon it; but beyond all that there are unmeasured, 
immeasurable powers, that await the presence of 
God himself to call them into expression. The soul 
is never satisfied until it is in conscious communica- 
tion with the Infinite. 

We were made for God, and, blessed be his name, 
he does not withhold himself from us. He is the 
"Fountain of living waters," and he that drinketh 
of this water "shall never thirst," bat it "shall be 
in him a well of w T ater springing up into everlasting 
life." The purest, noblest character is formed only 
by the touch of God. Holiness comes of communion 
with him. None can shine in celestial purity but by 
the transforming presence of the Holy Spirit, and 
in personal holiness only can perfect blessedness be 
found ; for the soul is too great in its capacities to be 
filled by aught else but God, and only a holy nature 
can be recipient of him. . 

As we touch upon nature in sensation, so we touch 
upon God in faith. He is above the domain of the 
senses; but faith reveals him and relates us to him 
in the most vital way, so that his presence thus real- 
ized evolves the deepest possibilities of our life into 
consciousness; so that thus, and only thus, we come 
to be all we were created to be, and our souls are 
flooded from the Infinite Fountain. 



552 The Fountain of the Water of Life. 

" Therefore with joy shall ye draw water out of 
the wells of salvation." " For I will pour water upon 
him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground: 
I will pour my Spirit upon thy seed, and my blessing 
upon thine offspring." 

Thus, out of the resources of his own being, God 
replenishes the soul that thirsts for him. 

" I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain 
of the vmter of life freely" His love is boundless as 
his nature, and upon his people he bestows himself 

FREELY. 



Note. — My exegesis of Rev. xxii. 16, in the Sermon on that 
text, goes upon the theory that it is to be interpreted in the 
light of the most natural meaning of the metaphors employed. 
There are many, however, who understand the terms "Root" 
and "Star" in the light, rather, of their symbolical import, as 
used in the prophetic writings of the Old Testament. I do not 
combat that interpretation, though I incline strongly to the 
one I have adopted. I see no ground of reasonable objection, 
however, to the other, and can well understand that both may 
be true. So our Lord's language, in John xvii. 24 — " Father, 
I will that they also whom thou hast given me be with me 
where I am" — being in his sacerdotal prayer, may simply ex- 
press "desire," as some understand it, and not authority. 



The End. 



r 



